


Here, Where We Intersect

by dreamersshouldknowbetter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Barchie but not in the way you think, F/M, Fluff, I keep my fics clean, No Smut, POV Alternating, People are messy, Real slow, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, The payoff will be worth the wait, There will be underage drinking, but love is great, life is messy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamersshouldknowbetter/pseuds/dreamersshouldknowbetter
Summary: Sometimes life throws the perfect person in your path. Sometimes you recognize them right away. Sometimes you don't.Or, Jughead pines after the girl he doesn't know and Betty pines after the boy she doesCollege AU with lots of fluff and angst





	1. Jughead

The elevator doors opened on the sixth floor of Crowley Hall, and Jughead searched for the door labeled 625. This was it: his new home for the next year. He hoped his roommate wouldn’t suck.

He found his door already propped open and cautiously took a step inside. The room was small, as was to be expected, but surprisingly full. The lofted bed on the right already had sheets and there were dozens of boxes piled around one of the desks. Someone had clearly already been here, but whoever it was they were gone now. 

Jughead sighed and began moving his own boxes off the cart he had used to bring things up the elevator. He was moving himself in, but honestly didn’t mind. His mother and younger sister both had prior commitments, and his father… well, it was best that his father wasn’t there. Coming without them felt, in some ways, poetic; it seemed right that he starts this new journey alone. Besides, he didn’t exactly have a lot to carry. Even with the scholarship he had earned money was tight, so dorm furnishings were few and far between. Which was seeming more and more like a good thing, considering the massive number of items already scattered on the floor.

“Hey! You must be my new roommate!” A voice cut through the silence just as Jughead unloaded his last box. He turned toward the source, coming face to face with a tall, red-haired boy wearing a high school letterman’s jacket.  _Who wears a letterman’s jacket in college?_ Jughead thought to himself, instantly set on edge by the All-American symbol.

“I guess that’s me. I’m Jughead.” He instinctively crossed his arms over his chest instead of offering a handshake, bracing himself for whatever rude remark his new roommate would come up with regarding his odd moniker.

“Cool name. I’m Archie.” His roommate responded casually, catching Jughead off guard. The boy - Archie - began moving around the room, unpacking his boxes and talking as he did so. “You just missed my parents. Man, they were a mess. My mom cried for like twenty minutes straight.” He chuckled, “But I guess that’s parents, right? Did your parents make a big deal about you going off to college too?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jughead lied, surprised by Archie’s friendliness, “Parents are just… like that, I guess.” 

“Exactly.” Archie seemed content with the affirmation, already preoccupied with the mountain of boxes before him. “Hey, dude, do you mind if my guitar goes here? I’ll have to move the futon over a bit.”

“Go ahead, whatever works.” Jughead shoved his hands in his pockets. From the looks of it, Archie was going to need all the extra space he could get.

“Thanks.” Archie pulled the futon a bit further toward the wall before stepping back to assess the space. Satisfied with the hole he’s created, he picked up his guitar stand and moved it into the place. “So Jughead,” he spoke absentmindedly, “you excited for the new school year? What’s your class schedule like?”

“It’s fine.” Jughead mumbled, busying himself with unpacking his desk supplies. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but small talk had never been his thing and the drive to campus had sapped any extra energy he had. He hoped if he focused on the task before him his new roommate would take the hint and let him unpack in peace.

“I’ve got a seven-thirty class.” Archie went on undeterred, much to Jughead’s irritation. “In the _morning_! I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I’m a music major, by the way. Vocal performance and songwriting. Not exactly the most secure career path I know, but I can’t imagine doing anything else. Well, other than football. But I’m definitely not good enough to go pro. I am planning on finding an intramural team though. Do you play any sports?”

Jughead just blinked back at him, overwhelmed by the avalanche of words. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had talked to him this sincerely.

“You’re not much of a talker are you Jughead?” Archie smiled, ensuring him that his comment was in good taste. Jughead simply shrugged in response, eliciting a laugh. “That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get you to open up soon enough.”

Jughead nodded and returned to his boxes. He had a feeling this was going to be a long semester.

* * *

 

In two weeks of being roommates, Jughead had become an expert on all things Archie Andrews. He learned everything from his breakfast preferences (pop-tarts and Eggo french toaster sticks), to his shower preferences (mornings, always), to his current Netflix obsession (How I Met Your Mother). But the most important thing Jughead has learned was that Archie was what some might call a social butterfly. 

After Archie (thankfully) ditched the letterman’s jacket, he quickly became a hot commodity on campus. People were in their dorm room all the time: hanging out and chatting, playing video games, watching movies, whatever. The stream of students was constant, and Jughead and Archie quickly struck a silent deal. Archie could have whoever he wanted over, so long as they never stayed past eleven. Before then, though Archie had informed him he was always welcome, Jughead stayed out of the room as much as possible. 

He had taken to spending his time in the student union, in a restaurant resembling an old-fashioned diner called The Sweet Shoppe. It was quaint and the employees generally left him alone, so to Jughead it was basically paradise. He worked on assignments, wrote short stories, read books, whatever it took to pass the time. Today the shop was particularly empty, and Jughead was typing away at his English paper when a new voice caught his attention.

“Two vanilla milkshakes to go please!” 

He looked up to see a girl leaning over the counter, smiling widely at the cashier. Her hair was pulled up into a perfect, long, blonde ponytail, the end of which she was twirling between her fingers. She hopped up onto a stool, typing away on her phone while waiting for her order to be filled. For some reason, Jughead was fascinated by her. Simply sitting there, smiling down at whatever was on her screen, biting her lip to stifle a giggle – she formed a perfect picture. _Like living art_ , Jughead thought to himself, feeling foolish the instant the phrase crossed his mind. _Foolish maybe,_ he smiled to himself, _but definitely not inaccurate._

He was pulled from his daze at the sound of the call bell and a brash “Order number five!” coming from behind the counter. The girl stood quickly, flashing one last dazzling smile at the cashier before grabbing her milkshakes off the counter.

Almost as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. Jughead noted that the diner felt dimmer in her absence – that being left alone under the fluorescent lighting no longer seemed as appealing as it had before. He tried to turn back to his work, but he suddenly found it impossible to focus on nineteenth century literature analysis. He was itching with inspiration, his mind swirling with the possibilities presented by the mere image of a girl. Clicking open a new document, Jughead smiled at the possibilities of the blank page and began to type. 

* * *

 

Jughead rushed back to his room, scolding himself for allowing the battery symbol in the corner of his screen to run red. He had been so consumed by the words flowing from his fingertips that he’d almost lost all his work.

“Hey Arch don’t worry I’m just here to grab my laptop charger and then I’ll -” Jughead barreled into the room and stopped short, looking up and taking in the sight before him. Sitting on his futon, computer resting on her lap and half-finished milkshake by her side, was the girl from The Sweet Shoppe.

“Hi!” She smiled at him, exuding a friendliness Jughead has only ever seen matched by Archie himself.

“Uh, hi.” He mumbled, silently begging his mind to make the room stop spinning

“Jug, this is Betty. Betty, Jug.” Archie motioned between the two, barely looking up from his laptop as he did so.

“Jug, huh?” She smiled up at him, an unfamiliar warmth radiating in his chest. “Interesting name.”

“It’s short for Jughead.” Archie offered.

“It’s a nickname.” Jughead justified, willing the searing heat of blush creeping up his neck to go away.

“Well then what’s your real name?” She blinked up at him, her green eyes connecting with his. _She’s even more gorgeous up close_ , he thought.

“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” Jughead deadpanned. He was surprised at his ability to form a coherent sentence, much less crack a joke. She giggled then, the sound pure and light. _Laugh again,_ Jughead thought.

“Jughead it is then.”

There was a pause, and Archie flashed him a look that made it clear it was time for Jughead to leave. “I’m just gonna…” Jughead stumbled around, “I’ll just grab my charger and go.”

He ducked his head down, unplugging his charger from the wall outlet and rushing back out into the hallway. As the door shut behind him, he stopped to steady himself. 

 _What just happened?_  

The collision of the fantasy of a stranger and the reality of a girl in his dorm room had left him feeling uneasy. Perhaps it was paranoia, he thought: an unrealistic nagging feeling that she could somehow sense all his thoughts. The multitude of words on his computer suddenly felt like a violation. _You were just caught off guard,_ he reassured himself, _nothing more._

 _Or maybe,_ a voice in the back of his mind pushed through, _maybe this is the start of something incredible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! The first chapter of my new multi-fic. It's going to be a long one (current game plan is about 18 chapters) so buckle in! It may seem a bit slow going in the beginning, but I'm trying to establish a whole lot of relationships and I want to give them all the treatment they deserve. I'm excited to start this journey with you, I hope you'll stick with me <3 Feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> Next chapter - we really get to know Betty better!


	2. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to @riverdalelovee over on tumblr for putting up with me and calming my anxieties as I finalized this chapter - I couldn't do this without you

Betty looked at herself in the mirror and applied one final shade of lip gloss before giving her reflection an approving nod. She was wearing her favorite cream sweater with a peter pan collared button down underneath and a small gold locket across the neckline, all tucked into a powder blue A-line skirt and finished off with a clean pair of white flats. It was one of her best outfits, or so she’d been told.

She picked up her phone, sent a quick text to Archie to let him know she was on her way, grabbed her backpack, and opened the door to leave.

“Well, don’t you look polished!” Betty jumped at the voice, surprised to find her neighbor standing in the doorway. “Where might you be headed looking so nice?”

“Hi Veronica,” Betty said, stepping out into the hallway and taking a moment to lock her door. “I’m just headed to a friend’s to study.”

“You’ve been spending quite a lot of time at this ‘friend’s’ lately.” Veronica drew air quotes around the word, “Are you sure you two are just studying?”

“Yes Veronica.” Betty shot her a look she hoped would shut down any further questioning, “Anyway I should get going. We’ve got an english assignment due.”

“I’ll walk with you!” Veronica brightened, reaching behind her and pulling her own door shut. “I was just on my way to get some much-needed Starbucks anyway. What hall does this friend of yours live in?”

“Crowley.”

“Perfect! Right next to Starbucks. Let’s go.”

Before Betty could object, Veronica linked their arms together and whisked Betty down the corridor.

“So tell me Betty,” Veronica spoke once they were in the elevator, “who is this friend of yours? It’s a guy, right?”

“His name is Archie,” Betty obliged, turning just in time to see Veronica’s eyes sparkle at the admission, “ _but_ he is just a friend. I’ve known him my whole life, we grew up together. And that’s all. He’s just a friend.” Betty repeated the phrase like a well-versed mantra. At this point, she supposed it was.

“Fine.” Veronica released an overly-dramatic sigh, “I’m going to pretend I believe you about this Archie guy. I totally don’t by the way, but I digress. If you aren’t trying to impress a guy, why are you dressed like that? I know outfits. And that outfit has a lot of thought put into it.”

“Just felt like looking nice, I guess.” Betty mumbled, her gaze flitting down to her flats as she stretched up onto her toes in a feeble attempt to rid her body of its sudden discomfort.

“Well, can’t argue with that!” Veronica nodded, seemingly pleased with Betty’s response, “As my mother always likes to say, ‘You can never be overdressed or overeducated’ and I suppose you looking like _that_ while studying satisfies both criteria.”

Betty stared at the raven-haired girl in bewilderment as the elevator doors opened and she strutted out, beckoning Betty to follow. Veronica was everything Betty was not: stylish, self-assured, wealthy. While Veronica hadn’t actually said anything to indicate how much money she had, Betty was certain it was a substantial amount. Her dorm room (a single suite with its own bathroom) looked as though it had been decorated professionally, her closet was bursting with designer labels, and Betty had seen her flash a black card without a thought.

As spectacular as Veronica seemed, Betty also got the impression that she was a bit lonely. Veronica spent a lot of time in her room, practically pouncing on Betty in hopes of conversation whenever she spotted her in the hallway. Not that Betty minded the company. Her own roommate, Amber, was nice enough, but she had her own friend group to keep her busy. So, while Veronica really hadn’t given her the choice, Betty was glad to have made a friend. At least until Veronica joined a sorority or something and moved on to more interesting people.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” Veronica asked when Betty caught up to her.

“Not really.” Betty responded, holding open the door and watching as Veronica stepped outside into the sunlight. “I’ve got some articles to revise for The Campus Courier, but then I figured I’d just explore campus a bit more. The weather is so nice I think it’s a good time to just be outside.”

“It is going to be gorgeous this weekend.” Veronica agreed, “A friend of mine from high school lives in an apartment complex a little bit off-campus and we were going to hang out poolside on Saturday. You should totally join! Unless you have too many revisions to do.”

Betty smiled, overwhelmed with gratefulness toward Veronica’s kindness. “Thanks! I’ll have to see - I really can’t afford to miss a deadline. Being a new staff member means there’s a lot of pressure to perform. Especially if I want to be writing my own articles any time soon.”

“Your own articles? Ambitious! I love it.” Veronica grinned approvingly. “I didn’t know you were so into journalism! Is that what you want to do after college? I know you’re studying business like me, are you wanting to start your own news outlet?”

“No,” Betty replied, “Writing is more of a passion really; something I did in high school that I thought would be fun to continue. It’s also never a bad idea to have an extracurricular on a resume for internships.” She paused, uncertain if she should continue, “Business is more of a general path. Until I, uh, until I really figure out what I want to do.”

“That’s too bad really. ‘Betty Cooper, investigative journalist’ has a nice ring to it.” Veronica winked. “But in all seriousness, whatever you want to pursue I am behind you one hundred percent. Us girls got to stick together.”

Betty released a deep breath, unaware until that moment that she had been holding it. Veronica’s casual approach to Betty’s plan, or rather lack of plan, was so different from her own. Not having a road map for after graduation, it was so unlike her. So unlike _Betty Cooper_.

They approached Crowley Hall and Betty spotted Archie waiting inside the lobby. He looked up through the window and waved, his eyes landing on Veronica and causing Betty’s mood to turn just a bit. Veronica, however, seemed oblivious to the attention, leaning in to Betty’s ear and whispering, “He’s cute! Go get ‘em girl.” before giving Betty’s shoulder a squeeze and venturing off toward the Starbucks across the street.

Betty opened the door to the lobby and let the cool wave of air conditioning wash over her. Archie was already walking toward her, his signature puppy-dog smile painted on his face.

“Hey Betts!” He greeted, quickly wrapping his arms around her. Betty sunk into his embrace, the familiarity of his touch instantly warming her. “Hey Arch,” she mumbled into his shoulder before pulling away. “How are you?”

“Good.” He answered absentmindedly, his eyes wandering back toward the street, “Hey, who was that you were walking with?”

“Veronica. She lives on my floor.” Betty clipped, refusing to offer any more details and choosing instead to give Archie’s arm a soft tug. “C’mon, let’s get to work on this assignment.”

Archie nodded in agreement, dropping the topic and swiping his ID to unlock the door to the boy’s corridor. “You look nice, by the way. You know how much I’ve always loved that sweater on you.”

“Thanks.” Betty muttered, pulling self-consciously on the cuff of her sleeve and trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her mind.

* * *

 

An hour and a half later the homework was finished and Archie and Betty decided to watch a movie. They argued a bit back and forth but eventually settled on Captain America, both resting on the futon as the film played. Archie’s eyes were trained on the screen, but Betty found herself much too distracted to pay attention; she was too acutely aware of the boy beside her. She was mesmerized at how his chest would lift and fall, fascinated by the way her breath fell instantly into rhythm with his. They were the kind of observations that one might be tempted to call romantic, but the notion of romance did nothing to dull the pang of longing that accompanied each expansion, failed to silence the scream for intimacy mere inches away yet worlds apart.

"Everything okay Betts?" Archie asked, pulling her out of her melancholic thoughts.

"Fine." She lied, "I'm just a little distracted I guess."

"Distracted by what? Is there something going on?" He sat up a bit straighter, attentive as ever to Betty’s emotions. Archie was always like that, attentive and caring. Willing to take all her burdens onto his own shoulders. It was one of the things Betty loved most about him.

"No. Just stressed with school I guess."

Archie smiled at her and threw his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "Well if there's one thing I know, it's that Betty Cooper will always come out on top."

"Thanks Arch." Betty felt a half-hearted smile cross her lips as she leaned further into his chest. She ran her fingers up and down his forearm, delicately tracing lines into his skin. He turned back to the movie and Betty turned back to her thoughts, her mind slowly turning to mush as his thumb absentmindedly pulled at the sleeve of her sweater.

Her chest ached at the mix of emotions welling up inside her. Lately it seemed every interaction with Archie felt this way – aching, emotional, overwhelming. It was moments like these where she felt as if she could cry, but out of happiness or loneliness she was never sure. She was happy to be there, in his arms, spending time just the two of them and enjoying his undivided attention. She was lonely because she knew the interactions didn’t hold the same meaning for him as they did for her. It was pathetic really, the way she just couldn’t get over him.

“Oh hey – I almost forgot to tell you!” He started, snapping Betty out of her thoughts, “I met the most amazing girl in my songwriting course – seriously Betty this girl is the absolute coolest. She’s in this pop-punk band, just piano and backup vocals, but I swear she’s a total star. She just breathes confidence, ya know?”

Betty felt her stomach drop, the physical contact that just moments before brought her intense comfort now making her sick to her stomach. “What’s her name?” She asked, her voice tight.

“Valerie.”

He said her name with such reverie, like it could cure cancer and save the whales and bring about world peace just by being spoken. She tried to resist the urge to look at him and failed, her heart sinking when she glimpsed his shining eyes. He was so gone, totally enamored with this new girl. And she was helpless to do anything about it. Again.

Eventually he broke out of his dazed state, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern when he looked back at her. Betty looked away, certain any eye contact would cause her to break.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Archie asked again, looking at her with worry.

“Yeah.” She gave him a soft smile, managing to bring her eyes up to his with immense caution, “I’m hanging out with my best friend. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“You’re right, I am pretty awesome.” He jostled his shoulder playfully, eliciting a genuine laugh from Betty. She rested her head back onto his shoulder and wriggled further into his body, desperate to replace the sour feeling in her heart. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeezed and she hummed softly at the show of affection, finding her mood was warming already.

Archie nestled his nose into her hair and brought his lips to her ear, the feeling of his breath sending chills down her spine. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

Betty fixed her eyes on the movie, releasing a deep sigh that echoed through her chest. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, so I know there was no Jughead in this chapter. And I'm sorry. But there was a lot to unpack with Betty! And a lot more to come. Don't worry though, Jughead will be back next chapter :)


	3. Jughead

Jughead came home to find Archie and Betty wrapped up together on the futon.

“Oh – sorry.” Jughead quickly apologized, Betty practically leaping out of Archie’s arms at the sound of his voice, “I didn’t mean to interrupt -”

“You’re okay!” Betty responded, cheeks flushing red. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

“You’re not going to finish the movie?” Archie looked surprised as Betty stood and began rounding up her things.

“No it’s getting late, I have to work on my revisions anyway. I’ll see you later.” Betty picked her backpack up and slung it over her shoulder. “Bye Jughead,” She waved, bolting out the door without a second glance.

Jughead stood, unsure of what to do as the movie they had been watching continued to play. Archie looked up at him and smiled, scooting over on the futon in silent invitation. Jughead awkwardly moved to join him, unable to shake the feeling that he had just interrupted something private despite Archie’s casual demeanor. It may have only been a second but the image of Archie’s arm draped over Betty’s shoulder as her head rested on his shoulder had burned itself into his mind, and no matter how hard he blinked he couldn’t seem to rid himself of its etching.

“So you and Betty…” He winced internally at the tone of his own voice, knowing he was already treading dangerous waters by broaching the subject.

Archie looked at him, confused for a second before the implication of Jughead’s statement registered. “Oh. No man it’s not like that.” He brushed it off, “Betty is just a friend, I’ve known her since we were kids.”

Jughead nodded, conflicted by the ease with which Archie had assured him of their situation and the intimate position he had found them in just minutes ago. He forced himself to settle back into the couch, desperate to pry more but not wanting to raise any red flags with his questions.

“I mean,” Archie started, eyes trained on the television, “We did date back in high school. But you know, that was high school. It’s totally in the past now.”

“Wait –“ Jughead snapped his head toward Archie in surprise, “you _dated_? And now you’re _friends_?”

“Yeah,” Archie laughed, “People can be friends after a breakup Jughead. What, you don’t talk to any of your exes?” Jughead just shrugged, uncomfortable at the question, “That bad, huh?”

Jughead rubbed his hands together and looked at the television, hoping to remain as casual as he could, “I’ve sort of never had a girlfriend.”

“Like never?” Archie responded. _Great_ , Jughead thought, _so he isn’t interested in talking about Betty but_ this _captures his attention._

“It just… never happened.”

It was true, though not entirely unfortunate as far as Jughead was concerned. He’d only had a few brief instances of attraction in high school, all of which were fleeting and inconsequential. Mostly a result of being a social pariah, somehow finding himself in no man’s land between the rich kids who believed him to be too low brow and the burnouts who thought him too intellectually inclined.

“Woah,” Archie whispered, clearly trying to overcome his shock and giving Jughead the distinct impression that Archie had been dating since elementary school. “I mean, that’s cool, I guess.” Archie added lamely.

They fell quiet, the sounds of the screen absorbing the silence, and Jughead reflected on the heavy juxtaposition he and Archie presented. It was incredible how different the pair was. Jughead was introverted, Archie was extroverted. Jughead was all monochrome, Archie lived in color. Jughead had never dated any girl, Archie had dated _the perfect_ girl.

He really wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Betty and Archie were two of the most sociable, picture perfect people he had ever met. It shouldn’t be news that she was into guys like Archie. What he couldn’t understand was how Archie could ever be okay just being friends with a human being as flawless as Betty Cooper. One thing was certain: if Archie was the kind of guy Betty dated, Jughead didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

He was back at The Sweet Shoppe, sipping his second cup of coffee and reading a well-worn copy of “Fahrenheit 451” when his phone began to buzz. The number on the screen was unfamiliar, and normally he would ignore a call like that, but the area code was from his hometown and curiosity got the best of him so he answered.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Hi, I’m calling for Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third?” A nasally female voice rang out. At the sound of his full name he instantly straightened his spine, the formality of her tone setting him on edge.

“This is he.”

“Mr. Jones, I’m calling from the Sweethill Rehabilitation Center. Your father, Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Second has listed you as his emergency contact, and it’s our policy to reach out and verify-”

“Did you say rehabilitation center?” Jughead cut the voice off, his stomach dropping through his abdomen and hitting the floor, “My dad is in a rehabilitation center?”

“Yes he was admitted yesterday after being sentenced to court-mandated recovery.” The woman stated matter-of-factly, “Now if you could just verify –“

“Court-mandated?” Jughead spit the words through the phone, earning a nosey glance from a waitress behind the counter and instantly lowering his voice, “What the hell did he do?”

The voice on the line took a moment to reply, and Jughead could hear the muted shuffling of papers on the other line. He swallowed hard, trying to drown the anxiety welling up in his throat as he waited for the woman to return. “It appears he was found guilty of driving under the influence. It was his third offense.”

Jughead let a few expletives escape under his breath, rubbing his hands on his temples as the voice on the phone continued to speak.

“Sir, I’m very sorry but I need you to confirm that you accept the responsibility of being your father’s emergency contact.”

“Fine.” Jughead agreed, quickly adding, “It’s not like I haven’t been responsible for him for years anyway.”

“Is this the best number to use should we need to contact you?” The voice continued undeterred. It occurred to Jughead that this woman had made this same phone call many times before, perhaps to people much less cooperative than him. He pondered the multitude of responses she must receive: the desperate cries of a mother, the angry threats of a husband, the disbelief of a friend - all culminating into the calculated speech and unwavering tone he was hearing now.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah this number is fine.” Jughead responded, defeated.

“Thank you very much. I’m sure your father will be reaching out to you soon.”

He laughed, the sound devoid of any humor. “I doubt it.” Jughead finished, hanging up the phone and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was supposed to be getting _away_ from all this crap - that was the whole point of picking a school all the way across the country. What was the value of all his hard work if his past was just going to follow him?

He didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Disappointed? Apathetic?

 _It’s not my problem_ , he reminded himself, picking up his book and flipping to the page he had left off on. He didn’t need to think about his father right now – he was building a new life, one that didn’t have room for any of his familial troubles. It’s not like they would need him as an emergency contact anyway. His father would do what he always did – play nice, follow the rules, and head straight to the nearest bar the moment they fell for his redemption act.

He stared at the pages of the book, struggling to focus as the print crashed together in his vision. His brain had apparently stopped processing, his vision too flooded with red to absorb the text before him. Still, it took four attempts at reading the same paragraph before he admitted defeat. Frustrated, he discarded the book onto the table and let out an angry sigh before cradling his head in his hands trying to sort his thoughts.

“Jughead!”

Jughead glanced up in the direction of the voice, his jawline still planted firmly in his palms. His breath hitched when he saw Betty, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her and forming a perfect silhouette in the glow of the fluorescent lights.

“Hi! How are you?” She asked, her sunny disposition grating against Jughead’s own gloomy one. As wonderful and refreshing as Betty’s mood seemed to always be, it was moments like these when Jughead preferred to be alone. Needed to be alone, really. It was his survival tactic, his solitude acting as a favored sort of armor. And though Jughead knew talking to Betty was nothing like battle, he couldn’t help but feel as though he needed to be on the defensive as she slid into the seat opposite of him without invitation.

“Fine.” Jughead clipped, wrestling his instinct to shut down with a forced effort to not take his mood out on the harmless bystander before him.

“A bit of light reading?” Betty gestured toward the book abandoned on the table. “Homework or pleasure?”

“Pleasure, I guess.” He mumbled, casting his eyes downward and praying she’d leave him be before he lost his composure. Betty may be beautiful, but this was the exact opposite of a good time for conversation. Unfortunately, Betty didn’t seem to have the awareness Jughead so strongly desired.

“So is this where you always disappear to whenever I come visit Archie?” She continued on, the corner of her mouth upturned in jest as Jughead's emotional fuse continued to burn.

“I like it here.” Jughead shifted in his seat, his tone turning cold, “People know to leave me alone.”

He knew he had crossed a line the moment the words left his mouth, he could see it in her eyes. Betty opened her mouth slightly as if intending to respond, but quickly closed it as his statement settled over her, her spine straightening just a bit. He swore he could see her walls fly up, the ease of friendliness she usually presented replacing itself with a practiced level of courtesy. Still, there was no anger behind her eyes, none of the indignation he was accustomed to receiving when he lashed out in the past. It was almost as if he could see her actively subduing her emotions, glossing over them with a determined sort of apathy. It was a response Jughead knew too well, one that came from years of active disappointment and damage. Although he couldn't quite picture the polished blonde before him ever experiencing the kind of things he had, her soft features much too kind to be hiding rough layers underneath.

“That’s not –“ He started, reaching a hand out toward her as if to stop her from running away but landing instead on the table between them, “That came out wrong. It’s not that I don’t like you, I do I just -” He took a deep breath to calm himself, his shoulders slumping over in defeat, “I’m sorry.”

Betty sat in silence for a moment, her eyes searching his. He watched as her face flickered between hurt and confusion, finally landing on concern. “Is everything okay?” She asked, her hand coming out to rest over his. Jughead looked down at her touch, his stomach doing a small somersault and effectively twisting into an even tighter position than before.

“It’s nothing.” He clammed up, pulling his hand away. She may have the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen, but years of practiced emotional distance wasn’t going to wash away simply because a pretty girl had placed her hand on top of his in a moment of pity.

“Okay,” Betty nodded reluctantly, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry. I’ll leave you be.” She slowly slid out of the booth and stood up, turning to go but stopping herself at the last minute.

“I know we don’t know each other well,” she looked back at him, “but I’m here, if you ever need to talk.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and a pen. Quickly scribbling something down, she ripped the top page out and placed it on the table between them. “Just in case you ever need a friend.”

Betty gave him one last soft smile before turning to walk away and leaving Jughead by himself. He reached up and cautiously dragged the sheet of paper toward him, staring down at the second unfamiliar number he’d seen that day.

He folded the number up and gently tucked it into his pocket, making a mental note to input it in his phone later, maybe even use it sometime. It was the kind of occurrence that deserved better circumstances, that belonged to a better mindset than he could muster. For now, he needed to do something else. He needed to clear his head and drain his emotions, to rid his body of the poisons he could feel thriving in his bloodstream. There was and has only ever been one solution to his problem: he needed to write.

And then, once his mood had lifted and his fingers had swept away every trace of his father, he promised himself he would get around to using that phone number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! All of your comments on the past two chapters were so wonderful :) Feel free to leave a comment or come chat with me over on tumblr!


	4. Betty

Betty took a deep breath and rang the buzzer, the intercom before her taking a second before crackling to life.

“Hello? Who is it?” An unfamiliar voice rang out, slightly muffled but obviously annoyed.

Betty paused, taking a second to double check the address on her phone and verify she was in the right place. Yep, the number on the buzzer definitely matched the number in her messages. Still, maybe she had been given faulty information? Nervous, she reached forward and pushed the speaker button, “Umm, it’s Betty? Sorry maybe I have the wrong address-”

“Betty!” Veronica’s voice suddenly came through the sound system, replacing the unfamiliar one from before and allowing Betty to breathe a sigh of relief. “Yay! You’re here! Come on up!”

Betty heard the door lock click open and gratefully reached for the handle. It had taken Veronica almost a full three weekends to get Betty to come sunning, but she had finally arrived at some upscale apartment a few minutes off campus. She told herself she hadn’t been avoiding hanging out with Veronica, that she had simply been busy with schoolwork and the newspaper and the time hadn’t presented itself. It was true, in part, but truthfully Betty had been waiting for Veronica to change her mind and take back her invitation. She had assumed Veronica would take interest in other people and leave Betty behind, but they were over a month into school and Veronica was still around so it seemed as if she was here to stay. Betty figured if Veronica was going to stick around she should make an effort to get to know this other friend she had heard so much about.

When Betty reached the top floor, she found the apartment she was looking for and knocked cautiously. She heard feet thumping toward her from the other side, and Veronica excitedly flung the door open.

“Betty!” She screeched, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into the corridor, “You made it! Fabulous.” Betty followed Veronica as she sauntered past the living room into the bedroom. The apartment was nicer than anything Betty had encountered on campus before, roomy with high ceilings and lots of light.

And red. Lots and lots of red. Red bedspread, red lampshades, red paintings – everything was expertly curated to match what was clearly a signature color.

The fiercest red in the room, however, was the girl currently assessing cover-ups laid out across the bed. She turned when Betty entered the room, her eyes flickering up and down as she sized Betty up. She pursed her lips, seemingly unimpressed with what she saw, and Betty was struck with the instant desire to run back out the door and all the way back to her dorm. “Veronica,” She spoke, eyes still trained on Betty, “who is this small-town Norma Jeane standing on my Persian rug?”

Betty crinkled her eyebrows in obvious hurt, quickly attempting to pull her face back to neutral.

“Cheryl!” Veronica chastised her, “You promised you’d be nice.” She walked over toward the girl – Cheryl - and picked a sheer cover-up off the bed and threw it at her, “Wear this one. I give it the Veronica Lodge stamp of approval. And don’t pretend like you didn’t know Betty was coming. You were standing right next to me when I buzzed her in.”

Cheryl didn’t respond, merely pouting her lips at Veronica and tossing the cover-up on over her bikini. Betty watched as she crossed over to her vanity and assessed her hair in its reflection.

“You’ll have to excuse Cheryl,” Veronica said to Betty, “She likes asserting her dominance as queen of the castle.” Veronica leaned in and whispered, “Beneath the surface she’s really a big softy.”

“I heard that, and I resent the implication.” Cheryl tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned away from the mirror, “Now, if you two are done psychoanalyzing me I’m ready to head to the pool.”

“Perfect!” Veronica clapped her hands together, “Let’s go.”

They left the apartment and walked up to the rooftop, emerging onto the mildly populated pool deck. In the warm rays of the sun, Betty trailed behind the duo, instantly feeling more relaxed. The feeling didn’t last long, however, when Betty registered the way every single head was turning to watch as Veronica and Cheryl passed. Amongst their designer cover-ups and their perfectly styled hair, Betty felt like a fish out of water in her cotton shorts and tank top. She clearly hadn’t dressed properly for the occasion.

She tried to swallow her anxiety as she pulled off her outer layers and revealed a simple blue bikini.

“I take it Plain Jane is your personal aesthetic?” Cheryl quipped, eyes scanning over the suit, “Did you get it from the Walmart clearance rack?”

Betty was grateful that the heat from the sun covered the flush of embarrassment across her cheeks. “Target, actually.” She responded, busying herself with laying out a towel over her lounge chair.

“Well whether it’s a Ralph Lauren or a Lauren Conrad, Betty could totally rock it.” Veronica chimed in, “Seriously girl, you’ve got an amazing body.” It was an obvious compliment, but it only served to make Betty even more aware of her body. She resisted the urge to bring her hands up to cover her stomach, knowing a show of such insecurity would be blood in the water for a shark like Cheryl. Instead, Betty quickly scrambled into her lounge chair, digging around in her purse for the issue of _US Weekly_ she had brought and using it to shield her torso.

Luckily for her, Cheryl chose not to comment further. Instead, she made herself comfortable in her own seat, pulling her oversized glasses down over her eyes and angling herself to ensure maximum sunlight.

The three of them settled into a silence, Veronica pulling out her phone and softly playing Selena Gomez. They were on the second verse of Bad Liar when Betty’s phone beeped.

She plucked the device from her purse, smiling when she saw the yellow ghost avatar followed by a familiar name.

“Ooo a snapchat!” Veronica announced, curiosity having caused her to take a peek at Betty’s screen, “Is it from that cute boy toy of yours? What was his name? Aaron?”

“Archie.” Betty corrected her.

“So it is from him?” Veronica wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, Betty’s silence acting as all the confirmation she needed, “I knew it!” She turned to Cheryl, who seemed to have found mild interest in Veronica’s excitement, “Betty has this total ginger babe of a boy toy she’s been hanging out with nonstop. Practically every time I run into her she’s on her way to his dorm. She refuses to tell me anything about him, but they’re totally going to date - I can feel it!”

“Actually,” Betty cleared her throat, wincing at the strained tone of her voice, “You’re about a year and a half late on that one Veronica.”

“Wait you’re already dating?” Veronica sat up in her chair, “I thought you said you were just friends! This is major news! Unless…” recognition dawned on her face, “oh.”

Betty gave her a soft smile, grateful that her sunglasses hid the way it didn’t reach her eyes, “We broke up after a couple months. It’s no big deal.”

“How tragic.” Cheryl quipped, casually leaning her head back to absorb the sun’s rays. “I would never stay friends with an ex. Way too much baggage.”

“Well Archie and I are different.” Betty defended, “We really are just better as friends.”

“So you can honestly say the breakup was amicable?” Cheryl asked, peering over the top of her sunglasses in accusation.

“I mean, not exactly…” Betty replied, her stomach twisting at the sickly smug grin appearing on Cheryl’s face, “but in the end we definitely agreed.”

It was the truth. She and Archie weren’t meant for each other. It had taken time to accept it, but after time it became clear. Archie was… wrong for her. He cared about her, but he didn’t love her – not the way a person should. She knew that. But that knowledge didn’t stop her from feeling a small twinge of excitement at seeing his name on her screen.

(A platonic excitement, she reminded herself, nothing more)

Betty opened the snapchat, expecting to be greeted by Archie’s fiery red hair and sunny smile but surprised to find a mass of black locks filling her screen. It was Jughead, staring down at his screen with a look of complete concentration on his face, oblivious to the dog-ear filter Archie had transposed on his face. Betty giggled, finding the contrast between his intense stare and the childish filter adorable.

“Who is _that_?” Veronica asked, snatching the phone from Betty before the picture could disappear.

“That’s Jughead. He’s Archie’s roommate.” Betty explained, reaching to take her phone back from Veronica.

“He’s cute!” Veronica cooed, “Do you have any more photos?”

“No I –“ Betty stammered, feeling strangely off put by Veronica’s sudden interest. “I don’t really know him.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Cheryl interrupted, “I already found him on Facebook.”

“You did what?” Betty sat up in surprise. “Why would you do that?”

“Oh please,” Cheryl rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t exactly take long with a name like ‘Jughead’.” She swiped through a few images, “There’s not much here – the boy has a seriously sparse social media presence, which is definitely a red flag. I suppose he is… somewhat attractive. But what’s with the wool cap? He’s wearing it in like all five photos. Who wears beanies these days?”

“I like it.” Veronica said, “It really enhances that whole ‘dark and brooding’ vibe he’s got going. Betty if you really aren’t planning on getting back with Archie I say you take a chance on his Holden Caulfield-esque roommate.” She swiped through the photos, her face lighting up as she landed on one, “Who knew, the boy even has a nice smile.”

Veronica held out Cheryl’s phone for Betty to see, showcasing a photo of Jughead in a graduation gown, smiling at the camera with a younger girl – his sister, maybe? – on his arm. She supposed Veronica was right, he did have a certain dark vibe to him, although in the photo in front of him he certainly appeared much cheerier – and much cuter – then her experiences with him had been in the past. Not that she had ever thought he was unattractive, per say, it’s just – wait, why was she even thinking about this?

 “I hardly know Jughead.” Betty pushed Cheryl’s phone away, “I’m certainly not trying to date him! Besides, I’m not even sure he likes me. I mean, he sent me a short apology text after he kind of snipped at me the other day, but for the most part he seems to be actively avoiding me. He practically runs out of the room any time Archie and I are doing homework.”

“Good.” Cheryl said, “Men should fear you. It keeps things fun.”

Betty laughed cautiously, trying to assess how serious Cheryl was in her comment. Veronica swatted at Cheryl’s arm with a laugh, apparently declaring Cheryl’s banter playful, before turning back to Betty. “Alright, so no Archie and no Jughead. Don’t worry B, we’ll find you a man soon enough.”

Betty would have protested, told Veronica she wasn’t looking to be set up, but she was cut off by the gleam in Veronica’s eye and another beep of her phone.

“ _Another_ snapchat?” Cheryl questioned, “Either that boy has the most interesting life since Banksy, or he’s trying to get your attention.”

Betty rolled her eyes, trying not to smile too much at her implication as she swiped open the phone.

The picture was of a girl Betty didn’t recognize, sitting on Archie’s futon and laughing at something on her computer. Archie had doodled hearts around her head, punctuating the image with three consecutive heart eye emojis. She was pretty, her smile genuine as her eyes crinkled in laughter. _This must be Valerie,_ Betty realized.

She felt her stomach plummet down all twenty floors to the street below, leaving a gaping hole in her chest that made it harder to breathe. It was just a photo, just a girl. She wasn’t the first one Archie took interest in, she wouldn’t be the last, Betty reminded herself. She needed to get a grip. Archie wasn’t hers, just like she wasn’t his.

Besides, knowing Archie his infatuation would be over soon enough and they would go back to life as normal, just the two of them together. As friends, of course.

“So what did he send you?” Veronica asked, cutting through Betty’s thoughts.

“Nothing.” Betty responded hurriedly, tapping the image away from her screen and putting her phone back in her purse. “Just another shot of Jughead.” Veronica shrugged and returned to her tanning position, apparently appeased with her answer.

Betty rested her head against the back of the chair, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to tap the image out of her mind.

“No offense girls, but this conversation has seriously failed the Bechdel test.” Cheryl announced, blissfully puling Betty from her own thoughts, “Can we discuss something other than Betty’s lackluster love life?”

“Well what would you like to discuss Cheryl?” Veronica smirked.

Cheryl seemed to contemplate that for a moment, “My calculus course. It’s totally killing me! My professor is being so unreasonable, I mean, what do integrals have to do with running a business anyway?”

“Wait do you mean Calc 210?” Betty asked, responding when Cheryl nodded, “I’m in the 8:30 lecture! I took some advanced courses in high school so I already understand the majority of the content, I could help you out if you want.” She wasn’t really sure why she was offering to tutor anyone, much less Cheryl, she really didn’t have the time. Still, the instinct to be helpful had won over. _Besides,_ Betty could almost hear her mother’s voice, _you should never pass up a good opportunity for networking_.

Cheryl assessed her for a moment, clearly wondering why Betty was offering to help just as much as Betty was. Betty offered a genuine smile, feeling a sense of pride when Cheryl smiled back, “Okay, sure. We’ll get coffee and you can talk me through implicit differentiation.”

“Great.” Veronica interrupted, “Now that you’ve got that solved, can we discuss something more interesting? Like did you hear about the latest Kardashian incident? I could _not_ believe…”

Veronica continued to babble, allowing Betty a chance to lean back down in her chair and bask in the strange sense of accomplishment she felt. She may not have a lot going for her love life, but she still had some things going for her. She had Veronica, and she would win over Cheryl, Betty was determined. All she had to do was keep pushing, and keep smiling, and everything would work out fine.

The image of Valerie flashed across her mind, and Betty quickly brushed it away. _Be kind to the universe and the universe will be kind to you_ , Betty reminded herself, _It will all be fine._

Veronica laughed at something Cheryl said, her voice light and carefree.

Just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I promise Jughead is going to start playing a much more prominent role in Betty's life from here on out - she just has other things going on right now, and it's important to work through it all
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! As always, shout out to my beta/personal writing support group @riverdalelovee over on tumblr
> 
> Speaking of tumblr, come find me over there! @dreamersshouldknowbetter


	5. Jughead

“Can I get some service?”

Jughead’s head snapped up from his book, and he quickly pushed himself off the back counter to walk toward the register. “What can I get you?” He asked, plastering on his best smile.

“I’ll take an iced triple, venti, half sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiato. With skim milk. And make it quick.”

Her voice was somehow both smooth and sharp at the same time, sliding down his spine with the chill of pretention. Jughead forced his smile not to fall from his lips. “Can I get a name?”

“Cheryl.” The scarlet-haired girl whipped out her phone, apparently deeming Jughead no longer worthy of eye contact, “With a C.”

“Coming right up.” He mumbled, turning away from her and rolling his eyes, relishing in the brief relief it provided.

He made his way around the counter, doing his best to work the machine and pull together the girl’s stupidly complex order. It was only his second week on the job and he really shouldn’t have been left alone to make such drinks on his own, but whoever was meant to be on shift with him today couldn’t be bothered to show up so here he was. Not that it mattered, he’d worked odd jobs since he was twelve, he had developed a knack for learning skills quickly. What he hadn’t developed was a patience for customer service etiquette.

Nonetheless, he tried to grin and bear it, handing over the drink with a smile. The girl looked at him for a moment, keeping her eyes locked on his as she tested a cautionary sip. Something indiscernible flickered across her face, and Jughead held his breath, anticipating the worst. Her lips pulled in to a tight line as she swallowed, almost as if she were disappointed that the drink wasn’t terrible, and she turned on heels and took a seat at a back table.

“Another satisfied customer.” Jughead murmured to himself, picking up a cloth and busying himself with cleaning the counter. He found himself humming along to the song playing over the speakers, stopping short as he recognized what he was doing. He hadn’t even realized he knew this song – it was something he would never have listened to on his own time. He wished there was a way to play his music, but the student union had its own god-awful radio that blared the same two-year-old Top 40 music on repeat. Still, a job was a job and Jughead could definitely use the extra income, so if it came with a little extra knowledge of pop culture he could deal.

“Jughead?” A familiar melodic voice asked, causing Jughead to jump and turn around.

Except he turned too quickly, accidentally knocking over a stack of paper cups and scurrying in horror to collect them all. “Betty! Hi!” He stabilized the cup tower and ducked his head down in embarrassment, “What are you doing here?”

“Umm,” Betty giggled, “I’m here for coffee.”

“Oh,” Jughead fumbled, “Of course.” _Idiot._ “What, uh, would you like?”

Betty’s eyes scanned the menu board above his head, her bottom lip pulling beneath her top teeth as she weighed her options. “How about a medium café mocha?”

He nodded, finding himself oddly out of breath, “Coming right up.” He grabbed a cup and busied himself with her order.

“So how long have you been working here?” Betty asked, leaning across the counter and watching Jughead move around.

He spoke over his shoulder, smiling a bit as he continued to mix her drink, “Two weeks. I like it so far I guess.”

“Just trying to have some extra cash on hand?”

Jughead stilled, grateful she couldn’t see his face flicker with insecurity, “Something like that. So what are you up to today?”

“I’m meeting up with some friends.” Jughead turned around, watching as Betty nodded in the direction of the redhead from before.

“Her?” He asked, the judgement in his voice apparent. “That girl could make hell freeze over with a single glance, and you two are friends?”

Betty smiled, a small smile that seemed practiced, somehow. “Cheryl is… a new friend. Veronica really sees something nice in her, and I trust that. The three of us are hanging out, working on some calculus homework.”

Jughead sighed, Betty’s kindness forcing him to swallow his judgements. “Right. Sorry.” He put a lid on her coffee cup and handed it over, “One medium café mocha for my favorite customer.”

He froze, the words that had tumbled from his lips making their way up to his brain. _His favorite customer?_ _What?_ They barely knew each other, why on earth would he say such a thing? Of course she _was_ his favorite customer, overwhelming with her green eyes and blonde hair and sparkling personality, but she didn’t need to know that!

Luckily for Jughead, Betty seemed oblivious to his thoughts, obviously interpreting it as a compliment he gave to every customer. She offered him a modest laugh before walking off to join Cheryl at her table, allowing Jughead to breathe a sigh of relief.

He went back to work, reorganizing the counter and serving the occasional customer and generally doing his best to not steal too many glances at Betty. A raven-haired girl Jughead took to be Veronica joined them about fifteen minutes later, rushing up to the table and offering apologies for her tardiness.

Jughead watched out of the corner of his eye as the three of them chatted, wishing they had chosen to sit just a bit closer to the counter so that he could better hear what they were discussing. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing, but they didn’t appear to be getting much homework done. They spent the majority of their time laughing and chatting, leaving Betty to corral the conversation back to their work every ten minutes. At one point Veronica turned and gave him an unreadable look, responding to Jughead’s confused glance with a wink. Betty swatted at her arm, pulling her attention once more back to their work. It was strange to say the least but he did his best to brush it off, knowing overthinking it wouldn’t exactly help him survive his shift.

Eventually the girls seemed to muddle through their assignment, slowly packing up their things and hugging each other farewell. Cheryl left first, quickly followed by Veronica, and finally Betty. She passed by the counter, smiling at Jughead as she did.

“Bye Jughead!” Betty waved.

“Betty, wait -” Jughead called out, surprising both himself and Betty. He really didn’t know what had possessed him to stop her, but he felt his window of opportunity closing and he was determined to prop it open just a little bit longer.

“What’s up?” She asked, strolling back to the counter.

“So what’s the verdict on Miss Fire and Fury?” He lowered his voice and leaned forward, his eyebrow arching in jest.

Betty laughed, “Not nearly as scalding as you might think. She’s actually kind of fun. She has a hard edge but I think I can chip away at it.”

He smiled, impressed at her determination. “Well if anyone can get a girl like that to soften up I’m sure it’s you.”

Betty paused, tilting her head in mild curiosity, “What does that mean?”

“Uh,” Jughead reached up to rub the back of his neck, “Just that, from everything Archie has told me you seem to be the kind of person who really cares for other people. Archie doesn’t shut up about it sometimes.”

A smile broke out across her face, “Archie talks about me?”

“Well, yeah. All good stuff. Obviously.” He laughed, “But Archie is also best friends with every single person he meets, so take it with a grain of salt.”

“Yeah…true.” She seemed to falter a bit, and Jughead instantly felt guilty. He couldn’t even give her a compliment correctly, what was wrong with him?

“Not that you’re not – I mean, I’m pretty sure when it comes to you it’s all pretty exceptional.” He corrected himself. She seemed to accept that, offering him a soft smile, and he quickly decided it was time to redirect the conversation while he had the chance. “Has he always been so… sociable?” He asked, “Archie, I mean. I feel like our dorm room is constantly crawling with people.”

“Oh trust me I get it. I’ve known Archie since we were children. He makes friends faster than anyone I know.” Betty laughed, smiling at a memory Jughead couldn’t see, “One time he walked into a party without knowing anyone and the next thing I knew they were letting him DJ. He’s kind of amazing that way.”

Jughead looked at her, analyzing the features of her face as she spoke. The way her mouth upturned softly, the way her eyes glazed over with affection - Jughead recognized that look. In fact, if he were a betting man, he would venture to say that very look was on his face when she had entered the diner that very first time.

He had misunderstood: she hadn’t been upset by his suggestion that she wasn’t special, she had been upset by his suggestion that _Archie_ didn’t think she was special. How had he not seen it before? All the signs had been there. He clearly had let his own hopes distort his perception of reality, allowing himself to be blinded to what was right in front of him. Archie may not have any feelings for Betty, but Betty definitely had feelings for Archie.

He was so screwed.

At that moment, a guy rounded the corner and strolled up to the counter. “Hey Jughead! Almost time for your shift to be over.”

“Hey Brandon.” Jughead responded, straightening in the presence of his manager. The shop may be relatively empty, but he still wasn’t looking to get into any trouble for slacking off.

“Where’s Savannah?” Brandon asked, “Wasn’t she meant to be working this shift with you?”

Betty whipped her head around, looking at Jughead in surprise, “Wait, you’ve been working a two man shift by yourself?”

“Savannah never showed?” Brandon echoed, his tone lacking the patience of Betty’s.

Jughead just shrugged, not wanting to cause any issues, “It was a light shift, no big deal.”

“Well I’m going to call her right now.” Brandon announced, pulling out his phone and already dialing, “Jughead go ahead and head out. Thanks for all your hard work.” He disappeared into the back, leaving Jughead and Betty alone once more.

Jughead shoved both hands in his pockets and shifted a bit on his feet, “Can I walk you home?”

Betty smiled, “Yeah, okay.”

Jughead nodded swiftly, pulling his staff apron over his head and rushing to hang it up. When he was done he stepped out from behind the counter to greet Betty, and the two fell in silent step together.

Jughead willed himself to break the silence, struggling to produce any topic that might prompt conversation beyond the weather. Thankfully, Betty seemed to have the small talk gene he desperately lacked.

“So, Jughead,” Betty spoke, “I don’t really know much about you other than the basics Archie has told me. Who is the mysterious Jughead Jones?”

Jughead shrugged, uncomfortable as always with discussing himself, “Not much to tell I guess.” It was a pathetic answer, but what was he meant to say? “ _Hi, my name is Jughead and my entire life belongs in a Thomas Hardy novel!”?_

“Alright,” Betty continued, “we’ll start a little simpler. What’s your favorite movie?”

Jughead stopped walking, eyes wide, “You can’t just start with a question like ‘What’s your favorite movie?’! How is a man supposed to choose just one! Picking just one movie is like picking just one meal for the rest of your life, forcing me to make a singular decision is just cruel. I mean, you’ve got A Clockwork Orange, American Graffiti, Night of the Living Dead, Rebel Without a Cause…”

“Anything from this century?” Betty giggled.

“True classics have to withstand the test of time before they’re proven to be classics.” Jughead justified, pushing his feet forward and prompting them to walk once more. “Besides, I worked at a drive-in in high school and it only played old films. Part of its ‘brand’. Not that I was complaining. What about you? Are you capable of committing to just one film for the rest of your life?”

“Of course I can.” She assured him, “My favorite movie of all time… uhh…” Betty seemed to consider that for a second, letting out an exasperated sigh when she couldn’t produce an answer, “Okay! You’re right! It’s an unfair and impossible question.”

Jughead pumped a single fist in the air in mock victory, earning a playful slap on the arm from Betty. “Alright,” he smirked, “What are _a few_ of your favorite movies?”

“I don’t know if I’m prepared to give an answer to that question.” Betty joked, “I’m afraid my movie taste won’t live up to your high standards.”

“What, are you one of those girls who likes Hallmark Christmas movies?”

“No,” Betty feigned offense, “But I do love a good romance movie. I can be a huge sucker for a love story.”

Jughead nodded, “Well there are plenty of good classic romance films out there – Casablanca, Annie Hall, Roman Holiday…”

“When Harry Met Sally?” Betty finished, earning a smile from Jughead.

 “A bit of a cliché,” he reasoned, “but nonetheless a great movie choice.”

Betty giggled, curtsying in a dramatic fashion, “Well thank you. I’m honored to have pleased the master. Even if only a little bit.”

Jughead laughed, the two of them falling into easy rhythm as they continued onward. It was amazing how comfortable it all was. For the first time since he’d come on campus, Jughead found himself feeling at peace with another person.

Yep. He was totally screwed.

“Hey Betty?” Jughead asked, a small memory nagging at the back of his mind, “What umm, what were you and -” He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just – were you and your friends talking about me?”

“What?” Betty furrowed her brow, obviously confused.

“I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I could swear Veronica…” He paused, knowing how bizarre he was going to sound, “ _winked_ at me.”

“Oh!” Betty laughed, waving off his question with a shake of her head, “That was nothing. They just recognized you as Archie’s roommate, that’s all. Veronica thinks you have a young James Dean appeal to you.”

“She does?” The corners of Jughead’s lips lifted a bit, his chest filling with an unexpected mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Huh.”

“She’s not totally wrong.” Betty mused casually, the smile she threw him causing Jughead’s stomach to somersault. He didn’t respond, instead glancing away and praying the dimming sunlight hid the faint blush spreading on his cheeks.

She thought he was attractive. Betty Cooper, the girl with the most electric green eyes and smooth halo of hair thought he, Jughead Jones, the loner who always looked as though he needed a full days’ sleep, was attractive.

Well, he supposed she hadn’t _actually_ said he was attractive. Just that he had a James Dean quality to him. Or rather, that _Veronica_ thought he had a James Dean quality to him. Maybe James Dean wasn’t even her type. Even if he was one of the greatest actors from the Golden Era of film.

So, so screwed.

“Well, this is me.” Betty announced, coming to a stop in front of what Jughead presumed to be her dorm building. Jughead nodded, pulling himself out of his mental spiral.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around?” Jughead asked, shoving both hands into his pockets.

“Yeah!” Betty agreed, “I think Archie and I are supposed to hang out sometime tomorrow. There’s a free concert on Memorial Lawn? You could join us.”

“Archie, right.” Jughead tried to hide his disappointment as reality came bursting through whatever haze he had been living in. This walk had just been a conversation, he reminded himself. She liked Archie, not him _._ Never him. “Maybe.” He answered lamely, “I’m pretty busy with… school and work.”

Betty smiled at him, and Jughead got the distinct impression she could tell something was off but was too polite to ask, “Okay, well goodnight Jughead.” She offered, turning and walking up the steps before disappearing inside her dorm and out of view.

Jughead stood for a minute, contemplating the situation he was putting himself in by spending more and more time with Betty. He would be putting himself at an intense emotional risk, letting her in. It was obvious she had no interest in him, could he handle that kind of disappointment? At the same time, could he handle not having her in his life at all?

He shook his head. Why was he debating this anyway? It was all so irrelevant. It wasn’t up to him how much Betty was in his life, it was up to her. Deep down Jughead knew he would follow her lead. Whatever she wanted, he would do his best to give it to her.

He smiled half-heartedly in the direction she had disappeared, his mind filled with the image of a light blonde ponytail and bright green eyes.

“Goodnight Betty.” He whispered, backing away slowly from the building and heading back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - and happy Riverdale premiere week! Please leave me some feedback - I'm a writer, I live for it!!
> 
> Next week - Betty gets herself into a bit of a situation ;)
> 
> As always, feel free to come find me over on tumblr! I'm always looking for new friends to scream about this show with


	6. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm pretty sure this is my favorite chapter so far - I hope you like it too!

Betty had been in a rush all day.

She’d forgotten to set an alarm the night before, meaning she had to rush to make it to her class on time, she’d rushed to get a meal in between her classes and her meeting with her study group, and now she was rushing into the Campus Courier office, so preoccupied by her thoughts that she ran straight in to another person.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’m so sorry.” Betty apologized, scrambling to pick up the papers that had fallen from her grasp. Honestly, it was a shock she this was her first incident like this of the day.

“It’s okay!” The boy responded, offering Betty a hand and a kind smile, “Maybe just slow down a little, okay?”

Betty brought a single hand up to smooth down her ponytail, trying to soothe the frazzled feeling that had been buzzing in her chest all day. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just here to deliver my edits for next week’s issue. Sometimes I get a little overly-focused.”

“You also seem to apologize a lot,” The boy smirked, reaching out a hand in introduction, “I’m Kevin.”

Betty accepted his hand, clutching her papers tightly with the other so as not to drop them again, “Betty.”

The boy - Kevin - laughed, “I know.”

Betty walked over to the editor’s desk and set her papers down, “You do?”

“It’s pretty easy to notice a freshman who sits in the front at all of our staff meetings.” Kevin explained, “I prefer to stick to the back. It’s easier to people watch from there.”

“Betty?” Veronica rushed into the room, clutching a hand to her chest, “Omigod I totally lost you back there! Girl, when you are in a hurry you are a force to be reckoned with!”

Betty whipped around, “Sorry V! I just really wanted to get the revisions in before the office got locked up.”

“Speaking of which,” Kevin interrupted, holding up a silver set of keys, “I do need to lock up here.”

“Of course! Sorry,” Betty apologized again, ushering the three of them out of the office and watching as Kevin inserted a key into the door and turned it shut, “Uh, Kevin, this is Veronica, Veronica this is Kevin.”

Veronica reached out a delicate hand, Kevin instantly picking up on her queue and shaking it in introduction.

“Kevin works on the Courier, obviously. He -” Betty paused, turning to look at Kevin quizzically, “What exactly do you do for the paper?” She felt foolish, it was usually in her nature to know everyone in the room as best she could. Apparently adjusting to school had thrown more than a few of her typical “Betty Cooper” habits to the wayside than she’d realized.

Kevin was of course unaware of this, as most people would be, and simply shrugged. “Mostly I just help out wherever I’m needed. They call me a floater.”

Betty smiled, “So you’re still trying to figure out what you’re passionate about?”

“Honestly, not really.” Kevin admitted, “In fact, I’m not much into writing at all. I’m majoring in Public Relations, I want to be a publicist. And before I can poach any of the potential talent here on campus I’m going to need some kind of edge. I figured experience on this side of the media could help me gain perspective.”

“Impressive.” Veronica interjected, pulling Kevin’s attention with ease, “You know, my father’s business is always looking to hire a few interns. And publicity is a large part of the business. If you’re interested, I could always get you an application.”

“Are you serious?” Kevin’s eyes widened in surprise, an eager smile appearing on his face.

Veronica tilted her head slightly to the left, clearly amused by his enthusiasm, “So is that a yes?”

“Is Taylor Swift making one of the most epic comebacks in pop history?” Kevin responded, earning a small laugh from Veronica.

“Here,” Veronica said, pulling her cell phone out of her handbag, “Put in your information and I’ll see what I can do. No promises, of course. Just a foot in the door.”

“Thank you! Wow you’re like my fairy job-mother or something,” Kevin reached out and eagerly grabbed the phone. He quickly inputted his details, looking up at the two girls before him as a thought flickered across his face, “Hey, do you girls feel like going to a party tonight? There’s one happening at one of the off-campus fraternities.”

“You’re in a frat?” Betty asked.

“No, but I am into frat boys.” Kevin winked, “So you in?”

“I don’t know..” Betty hesitated. She’d been to a few parties in high school, mostly allowing Archie to drag her along, but accepting an invite from a relative stranger put her on edge. Besides, a fraternity house? They didn’t necessarily have the best reputation, and she could practically hear her mother’s voice in her head: _Association is everything, Elizabeth. Don’t allow yourself to get distracted._

She should say no. She hardly knew Kevin, and she was already so overwhelmed with her schoolwork she couldn’t afford to take a night off. Just as Betty was about to thank Kevin and decline is offer, Veronica interjected.

“We’re in.” She said, flashing a million-watt smile at Betty and silencing any kind of protests she might have.

“Brilliant.” Kevin clapped his hands together in emphasis, “And feel free to bring friends, it’s totally an open invite. Just text me for the deets. I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you both tonight!”

Kevin gave a small wave and walked off, leaving the two girls standing in the hallway.

“Yes!” Veronica squealed, clapping her hands together before reaching out and grabbing both of Betty’s. “A party! Thank God, it’s about time you and I go have a little fun together.”

Betty smiled timidly, “Veronica, I’m not sure I’ll really fit in at a frat party.”

“Nonsense!” Veronica waved her hands dramatically, “Betty you put the ‘hot’ in ‘hottie’. Seriously, all you need to do is put on a little bit of makeup and lose the cardigan, and you’ll have to chase the guys away.”

Betty took a deep breath, her mind working in overdrive to come up with excuses. She had homework to do. And studying for her upcoming exams. And she wanted to draft a few mock articles to present to her editor. Not to mention her room probably needed a good cleaning, her desk having slowly turned into a physical manifestation of her cluttered mind.

The more she thought, the more Betty was overwhelmed with the idea that maybe she should stop thinking. She didn’t exactly know about chasing guys away, but maybe a night off would be good for her. She had been fighting an ever-growing sense of panic in the past week, and she had no doubt it was a result of the pressure she was placing on herself. Veronica was right, she could use a night of fun. Besides, it was just a party – how bad could it be?

“Okay,” Betty nodded, “We can go.”

* * *

 

Five hours later, Betty found herself in an Uber sandwiched between Veronica and Cheryl. Betty had to admit, she felt really good. Veronica had let her borrow a skater skirt that admittedly made her legs look extra long, and she was rocking a smokey eye that made her green eyes seem brighter than usual. Even Cheryl had given her a compliment when they picked her up at her apartment, and Betty happily let it go to her head. Betty didn’t exactly feel like herself, but she was starting to think that was a good thing. She didn’t want to feel like herself tonight. Tonight, Plain Jane Betty was staying at home, a newer, more confident Betty was left standing in her place.

The car dropped them off down the block a bit, Cheryl insisting that being seen arriving in a minivan was social suicide. The three of them walked down the uneven sidewalk, Betty mentally noting how flawless Cheryl and Veronica managed to make a simple strut down the sidewalk look. She did her best to straighten her shoulders and follow their lead, trailing ever so slightly behind.

_Breathe Betty, you can do this._

The party was in full swing when they arrived, music blaring over a surround sound speaker system and wall-to-wall people. Betty grabbed hold of Veronica’s hand as she wove them though the crowd, stopping right before the makeshift bar.

“Three please!” Veronica shouted across the counter, flashing a flirty smile at the bartender as he filled three red cups with some sort of concoction.

“What is this?” Betty asked, taking a small sniff of the green drink with caution.

“It’s called jungle juice.” Cheryl said as she took a sip, “It’s disgusting, and deceivingly strong so be careful.”

Betty scrunched her nose, “If it’s disgusting why are we drinking it?”

“Because,” Cheryl rolled her eyes, “‘When in Rome’ and whatnot. Just drink!”

Betty obliged, taking a small experimental sip. The drink tasted suspiciously like kool-aid, but Betty had a suspicion there was a lot more to it. In the past, she didn’t really partake in the drinking, far too fearful her mother would find out. She’d taken a few sips of whatever Archie was having – typically a beer – and proudly accepted her place as designated driver. But tonight, Betty wasn’t driving. Tonight, Betty was ready for the full experience, and apparently that included this jungle juice. She smiled at Veronica, who had clearly been watching to see how Betty would react to the concoction, and Veronica took that as her green light to move forward.

“Come on, let’s go dance!”

The three of them shuffled their way through the crowd, landing on the middle of the dance floor and quickly adjusting to the beat. Betty’s flats stuck a bit to the floor with each step, but eventually she stopped noticing, swaying her hips side to side and letting the rhythm take over. At some point Kevin joined them, dragging a few strangers with him into their tight circle. There was something oddly relaxing about being placed in the middle of a large crowd, both invisible and fully a part of something at the same time. Before she knew it she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, thanking the universe that she had remembered to put on deodorant before she left. She finished off her drink, accepting Cheryl’s offer of another – after all, what was the difference between one drink and two? Slowly but surely, she started to feel a warmth wash over her, the knots of her mind loosening under the persuasion of the alcohol. The music switched to a techno-pop beat, Betty letting out a “whoo” and spinning around, landing directly in the arms of the person behind her.

“Betty?” A voice prompted her to look up, coming face to face with her favorite redhead.

“Archie!” Betty squealed, the heat in her chest warming even more at the sight of him, “Hi! You’re here!”

“Well you invited me, didn’t you?” Archie shouted over the music. He looked around for a moment, seemingly still trying to get his bearings, “I’m going to go get a drink!”

“What?” Betty asked, her hips still swaying to the beat.

“A drink!” He gestured toward the bar, “Come with me!”

Betty nodded, allowing Archie to take her hand and pull her out of the crowd. The noise dimmed a bit as they edged away from the main speakers, but Betty could still feel the buzz of the bass in her chest as they made their way to the bar. Archie grabbed a beer and popped it open, taking a comfortable swig. Betty giggled a bit – same old Archie, always picking a basic beer over anything exciting.

“So how’s it going?” Betty asked, “You should come with me back to the dance floor! It’s super fun!” She smiled up at him, happy as always to have his attention.

“I think I’m okay for a bit,” Archie excused, his eyes taking a moment to scan across her body, “You look really good Betts,” he said, his low tone filling Betty to the brim with pride. This was certainly new - he was looking at her, he was _actually_ looking at her. Sure, she was wearing a solid pound of makeup and a crop top in place of her usual sweater, but she would happily go through that transformation every day just to get his eyes to look at her like this. Like he had a once upon a time.

Heat flushed through her body, the alcohol fuzzing the edges of her mind and making her bolder. “Thanks Arch,” she smirked as best she could and threw her arms up around his shoulders. He chuckled a bit at the movement, but he didn’t pull away, and Betty just knew: this was it. This was going to be the moment he finally woke up and realized what he had been missing. The excitement in her chest culminated in a giggle and a slight bounce on her toes. Only her stability was a bit compromised by her drinks and she stumbled for a moment, Archie quickly grabbing her by the waist to steady her. The giggle died in her throat and she blinked up at him, trying to calm the hum of her mind as his fingertips burned holes into the skin just above her skirt. It was electric, his touch, and she wanted more. She wanted to taste him again, even if just for a moment. All it would take was one single kiss and everything would fall back into place…

But suddenly, Archie’s hands weren’t holding her anymore, his eyes were no longer smiling into hers. He was walking away… where was he going?

“Archie?” Betty called after him, her gaze following his to the girl making her way across the crowded room. He abandoned her, moving toward the girl and bringing his lips to hers. The lips Betty had been so certain were meant for her were on another’s, and Betty watched as the warm pink hue of the room turned a threatening shade of red. Archie hooked his arm over the girl’s shoulder, swaggering back to Betty with a confidence that made her sick.

“Betty, this is Valerie! Valerie, this is Betty.” Betty could swear the ringing in her ears increased tenfold.

“Hi Betty!” Valerie smiled, as if she didn’t know what she was doing. As if she didn’t know that Archie had been hers once, that this girl was ruining her chances of being his once again.

“What are you doing here?” Betty asked her, the surprise and anger leaking into her tone. “What is she doing here?” She repeated, this time turning to Archie.

“What do you mean Betts?” Archie furrowed his brow, in that stupid, adorable way he did when he was confused, “You said the party was open invite. And I figured it was only right to invite my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Betty choked, the room spinning just a little bit faster than it had a moment before. Too much, it was too much. The music was too loud, the people were too close, Archie and his – his _girlfriend_ were too close. “Excuse me.” Betty blundered, turning away before they could say anything else, the buzz in her head mixing with the blare of the bass and making it impossible to know if they called after her.

The exit, she needed the exit. Where was it? She couldn’t remember, it was too dark and too crowded in this god-forsaken basement. She stumbled around for a bit, finally pushing through a door and blissfully inhaling the fresh air. Hot, furious tears escaped from her eyes, and Betty struggled to compose herself. Home. She needed to go home. No, not home. Her dorm room. It’s not the same. She could walk there, but certainly not by herself. Even in her compromised state Betty recognized how dangerous that walk could be this time at night. She could get Veronica? Or Cheryl? Or Kevin? No, they were all still inside the party, she couldn’t go back in there. She couldn’t see _him_ with _her_ any more. She could call another Uber? No, she’d never used the service before and she’d left her credit card at home. Maybe she could just wait here, outside, until the party was over and her friends were ready to go home.

Resigned to a few hours in the cool air, Betty sat down on the curb and pulled her phone out, desperate for some sort of distraction. What a useless device. Who was she going to call? Everyone she knew was either in the party or back home in Riverdale. Even just scrolling through her text history – it was Archie, Veronica, Cheryl, her mother… Jughead.

She opened the single text she had received from him, an apology following their interaction at the diner.

_Sorry for earlier. I promise I don’t hate having you around. If anything, your presence makes Archie more tolerable. Trust me when I say you’re not the “people” I’m looking to avoid._

Betty stared at the message, the same way she had when she’d first received it. It was an apology, sure, but she could tell there was something else beneath it. Something she had known wasn’t for her to push. Something she certainly wasn’t going to make sense of now.

Jughead wasn’t at the party, Betty realized. And if he wasn’t at the party, he could be back at his dorm room. Maybe he would be busy, or think that she was weird, or just outright be annoyed, but Betty was desperate. Plus, he made a point of saying he wasn't looking to avoid her, and that had to count for something right? She quickly hit the call icon before she could lose her nerve, holding the phone up to her ear and waiting.

“Hello?” A voice spoke softly through the line.

“Jughead? It’s Betty. Betty Cooper? I’m Archie’s… friend?” Betty winced at the word.

“Betty is everything okay?” His voice was stronger now, more hurried.

“Yeah, totally!” Betty did her best to sound upbeat as her voice threatened to strain itself with emotion, “I just, uh, I was just wondering if…” She trailed off, the thickness of her voice cutting off anything further.

“Betty?” Jughead asked again, clearly growing concerned at her incoherency.

“Look,” She began, squeezing her eyes shut and just going for it. She was way past the point of keeping her dignity, “I’m sort of at this party, and I really just need to go home but all of my friends are still inside and it’s too late to walk and I can’t get an uber because I don’t have any money and I know it’s late but I remembered something about you maybe having a pickup truck and if it isn’t any trouble would it maybe be possible for you to potentially come pick me up and take me home?”

There was a pause on the other line, and Betty held her breath.

“Text me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

It was a definitive statement, so full of certainty that Betty nearly burst into tears all over again, thanking Jughead profusely before hanging up. She quickly texted him the name of the fraternity house, leaving her time to just sit on the curb with her thoughts.

What an idiot she had been, draping herself all over _his_ body, thinking his smile was full of flirtation instead of pity. She was supposed to be _over_ all of this, not pushing for it all to come back. If there had been any question of Betty’s feelings before, there definitely wouldn’t be now. She was going to kiss him! She had wanted to kiss him! And right now, he was probably with _her_ , grinding on the dance floor and granting her unlimited access to the parts of him long closed off to her.

She thinks she might throw up. Seriously. Her stomach twisted in a cruel form, flipping itself over and squeezing tight, the mixture of alcohol and embarrassment a threatening combination. She pulled her knees to her chest, rocking herself slightly and trying not to care about what she may be exposing beneath her skirt.

She wasn’t quite sure how long she stayed like that, how many people passed her by and gave her odd looks, but eventually the soft rumble of tires on pavement caused Betty to lift her head, looking up to see a pickup truck rolling to a stop beside her.

The driver’s side window rolled down, Jughead poking his head out and offering Betty a friendly smile.

“I heard there was a damsel who needed rescuing?”

Betty laughed in a manner that escaped more like a sob, scrambling to her feet and feverishly wiping mascara from her cheeks. She did her best to smile at Jughead, casting her eyes downward as travelled around the car to the side door. Stepping into the truck, Betty pulled the door closed behind her and reveled in the blissful muffling of the party’s rumble.

Increasingly aware of her attire, Betty tugged at her crop top, the cool leather of the seat doing little to calm the flush of heat creeping up her spine. She didn’t say anything, too embarrassed and quite frankly still too hazy to trust herself to speak, choosing instead to toy with her thumbs as Jughead put the gear in drive and pulled away from the house.

The car ride was almost silent, Jughead mercifully turning on the radio and leaving Betty to her thoughts. He kept his eyes on the road for the most part, though Betty caught him once or twice glancing at her with apparent concern in his eyes. He wanted to ask her what happened, she could feel it. Not that she blamed him. If a near stranger had called her late in the night begging for a ride she would have been curious too. Maybe she should tell him, explain herself even just a little. He deserved some kind of explanation, right?

“I uh,” she cleared her throat, willing herself to continue, “I just had to get out of there. It was a little too much for me.” Not entirely a lie.

Jughead didn’t respond, just nodding ever-so-slightly and keeping his eyes glued to the road. Betty took that as her queue to stay quiet. She had probably irritated him, inconvenienced him to a point of mild resentment. He must hate her, must wish he hadn’t driven off campus to come and pick her up. He must have wished he never gave his number to the idiot girl who couldn’t handle herself at a party –

“It’s okay.” Jughead spoke, interrupting her slow spiral into insecurity.

“What?”

“It’s okay.” He repeated, “I just mean, I was already up writing, you didn’t wake me or anything. And there’s barely any traffic at this time of night. I really don’t mind picking you up.”

“Really?” Betty looked at him, surprised by how easily he seemed to read her thoughts.

“Really.” Jughead smiled. Betty smiled back, her dizzy mind settling a bit at his reassurance.

“Oh, uh, I live in Bailey Hall.” Betty said suddenly, realizing she’d failed to give that vital piece of information.

“I know.” Jughead stated, his lips pressing together just a bit before he spoke again, “I mean – I remember from walking you home. And Archie had mentioned it a few times.”

Betty felt her stomach drop at the mention of Archie, her eyes snapping back to the road as she fought to keep her face as neutral as possible. Jughead was Archie’s roommate, of course he would come up at some point – it was perfectly natural.

She knew then that she couldn’t tell him what happened. Maybe he would take Archie’s side, tell her how foolish she was to be pining after an old high school flame. Maybe he would laugh at her, finding humor in the image of a scantily clad Betty Cooper throwing herself at a taken man. Or worst of all, maybe he would look at her with pity, feeling sorry for the poor girl who just couldn’t get over her heartbreak.

She couldn’t admit the truth, not to anyone. She’d just have to hope that went the alcohol wore away, so did the memories. That with her inevitable hangover would come the blissful pounding of forgetfulness. If she couldn’t remember, she wouldn’t have to tell anyone. And if no one else knew, then as far as Betty was concerned it never even happened. It was an unlikely outcome, but she could hope.

The car rounded a corner and her dorm came into view, Betty breathing a small sigh of relief at the familiar sight. She was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion, her eyelids burdened with the weight of sleep. She yawned, stretching her arms in front of her as Jughead pulled the truck to a stop. Betty pushed open her door, stepping down from the cab with heavy feet, giving Jughead a small wave as she prepared to head inside.

“Betty?” Jughead spoke suddenly, causing her hand to stall of the passenger door as she turned to him expectantly. “I don’t know what happened tonight, but,” He paused, a smirk crossing his lips, “I’m here if you ever need to talk.” Betty smiled, muttering a soft thank you before shutting the door and walking up the sidewalk toward her dorm.

* * *

 

Strangely enough, Betty found that the haze of the night before had softened a lot of her usually sharp memories by morning, but unfortunately not enough to completely erase it all. The first thing she saw as she came to in the morning was the image of Valerie on Archie’s arm seared on the inside of her eyelids.

Betty groaned, picking up her phone and wincing a bit at the bright screen. It was overwhelmed with messages from Archie and Veronica and even one from Cheryl, which was a surefire sign that everyone knew something was up. She wondered if Archie had told Veronica what happened, or if she was simply worried that Betty had disappeared. Either way, Betty knew it was a conversation she was _not_ ready to face.

But if she couldn’t reach out to either of her friends, who was she supposed to spend time with? Betty wasn’t always the most sociable person, but even she knew she wasn’t going to survive being alone for long. Her thoughts were much too toxic, and she was a chronic overthinker. She was going to need a social distraction.

_I’m here if you ever need to talk._

Jughead’s words pierced through her mind, providing a much needed sense of reassurance. She may have alienated the majority of her friends, but if there was one person who wouldn’t ask questions it was Jughead. She summoned all of her courage and prayed to whatever God there was that Jughead had been sincere in his offer before firing off a quick text.

_“Do you like coffee?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate me? Do you love me? I want to hear your thoughts!!!
> 
> Also, not that this story has been slow so far (more like it's been filled with development) but things are really going to pick up from here! Let the slow burn intensify!!


	7. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two full weeks of waiting for an update? Yikes. Sorry everyone. Hopefully this update is worth the time I took to write it. Thank you so so much to @riverdalelovee over on tumblr for talking me through this chapter and helping shape it into what it is now!!

They’d been sitting in the library for hours: Betty struggling through her accounting project, and Jughead working on his English paper. Well, technically, he had finished his paper about two hours ago. Now he was typing away at his computer, lost in the world of his own words.

They’d been hanging out for a little over a week now, following whatever had happened after that party. At first, Jughead assumed Betty was just reaching out to somehow alleviate her guilt for asking him a favor so late at night, but this was the third time they’d ended up together: first at the coffee shop, later at the Sweet Shoppe, and now here, in the library. Whatever her motives, Jughead certainly wasn’t complaining.

They spent most of their time in comfortable silence, the tapping of his keyboard and the scratching of her pen meshing perfectly with the hushed tones of their environment. Jughead loved libraries: they were orderly, peaceful, and no matter where you were they adhered to a certain set of rules. Namely, they came with the rule of silence. Much like the diner, people were smart enough to mind their own business in a place like this. It was almost as if time didn’t exist here, getting lost among the shelves and the tables.

It helped that his company was so wonderful. Spending time with Betty, even in the small moments like this, was somehow so different from all other interactions. As it had been that first day, inspiration sparked off his fingertips in her presence, her mere occupation of the space across from him having an almost medicinal effect on the blockades of his mind.

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have the same effect on her. She’d been frowning at her assignment and scribbling furiously for the past thirty minutes, her hair going from its typical ponytail to falling across her shoulders to back up in a messy bun. At the rate she seemed to be going, her wasn’t sure her hairband would make it through the night. He was just about to ask her how she was holding up when she slammed her laptop shut with a frustrated groan.

“That’s it!” Betty announced, “I give up. If I have to look at one more balance sheet I’m going to lose my mind.” She sighed, scrubbing her hands down the sides of her face before looking over at Jughead, “Walk me home?”

He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach that her soft smile inspired. “Sure.” He returned her smile, “Just give me a second to finish up.”

It probably should have struck him as bizarre how usual it felt to have Betty ask him to walk her home, but he had made a promise to himself not to read too far into their interactions. Everything between them was strictly platonic, no matter how much he would like it to be otherwise.

Jughead quickly hit save on his document, closing his laptop and shoving it into his messenger bag. 

They stood up wordlessly and walked toward the door, the fresh air washing over them. It was the kind of night that always made Jughead feel rejuvenated: the air was cool and electric, full of an after-rain freshness and the impending arrival of fall.

Betty must have felt it too because she suddenly stopped walking, turning to Jughead with a twinkle in her eye. “Hey, you wanna do something?”

“Depends,” Jughead quirked his eyebrow in suspicion, doing his best to pretend he hadn’t already decided to say yes, “What is it?”

“Come with me.” Betty grinned, grabbing Jughead by the hand and pulling him in the opposite way they were meant to be heading. She dropped his hand quickly, having really only grabbed it to turn him in the right direction, but as they continued on Jughead swore he could feel its ghosting presence still wrapped around his palm.

“Uh, Betty? Where are we going?” Jughead asked as they walked farther and farther off campus. They were passing the graduate side of campus, headed toward an area Jughead didn’t recognize.

“It’s just around this corner…” She mused, urging him to continue onward. They turned behind an academic building and Betty stopped, holding her arms out in presentation, “Ta-da!”

“Woah.” Jughead said, taking in the sight in front of him. Spread out before them was a giant circular pathway, surrounded by model planets and spiraling into a bright, glowing yellow sun. “Is this…”

“A to-scale model of the solar system? Yes.” Betty blushed, suddenly sheepish, “I guess it’s a little dorky.”

“No it’s -,” Jughead looked around, the crisp air somehow highlighting the glow of the lights, “it’s cool. I mean, it is _completely_ dorky,” he nudged her arm, “but still somehow very cool.”

Betty laughed, muttering a small “c’mon” and moving toward an entryway arch. Jughead followed behind her, stopping just after the archway and pausing to look at the factoids and biographical information of various alumni with careers related to planetary science. Apparently, the school had a rather extensive and impressive planetary science program.

His gaze travelled downward, landing on the oddly decorated ground beneath him. The pathway was speckled with lights, and Jughead found himself trying to make sense of their pattern.

“They’re constellations.” Betty answered his unspoken question, pointing to a cluster to their right. “That one is Scorpius,” Betty pointed to their left, “that’s Cassiopeia. And that -”

“Is Orion.” Jughead finished, earning a surprised look from Betty, “I used to spend a lot of time outside with my sister growing up.” He offered, a half-hearted explanation Betty readily accepted. It wasn’t as though she had a reason to assume anything else. Normal children with normal childhoods spent time outside for fun – chasing fireflies and playing tag and whatnot. They didn’t learn encyclopedias worth of information about the night sky simply so they could entertain their little sister enough to keep her outside when her father came home drunk and angry.

“They’re kind of pretty, aren’t they?” Betty asked, “I know it isn’t as nice as actual stargazing, but all the light pollution makes it pretty difficult to see much of the real thing from campus.”

Jughead looked down at the pathway, littered with lights forming constellations he knew by heart, before turning to look at the girl who had brought them to him. She had begun walking the pathway, slowly and deliberately tracing the outline of each constellation with her eyes. As he watched her, he couldn’t seem to stop a Virginia Woolf quote from crossing his mind, muttering it beneath his breath and allowing the night to whisk it away into the sky.

_“She stood there: she listened. She heard the names of the stars.”_

“Jughead,” Betty turned when she reached Neptune, a questioning expression on her face, “Are you coming?”

He quickly shook himself out of his stupor, jogging toward her and falling in stride beside her. They passed by Uranus in comfortable silence, stopping when they reached Saturn. Jughead stared at the tan model, sizing up about a foot above his head.

“You know,” Betty spoke, “Saturn has such a small density that it would actually float if you could find an ocean big enough to put it in.”

Jughead looked at her and chuckled, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s with the interest in astronomy? You seem to be exceptionally knowledgeable for a business major.”

“When I was younger, I wanted to live on the moon.” Betty explained, “But of course, like every six-year-old perfectionist, I couldn’t possibly plan such a move without extensive research. It just kind of spiraled from there.” She traced her hand along the planet’s outer ring, “Of course eventually I realized that space travel probably wasn’t in my future, I grounded myself with more realistic dreams and more reachable ambitions. But when I came here and found this place… I don’t know I found it comfortable, I guess.”

He watched her as she absentmindedly stared at the glowing orb in front of her. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he felt as though she had just revealed a secret to him, almost unintentionally. She looked at him like she was in heavy thought, opening her mouth cautiously to speak, “Your sister,” she prodded, “Did she like looking at the stars with you?”

Jughead sighed, taking his gaze away from hers and resting it safely on the display before them. “Yeah.” He nodded, “She… she liked the distraction, I think.”

“Distraction?”

“Sometimes, uh, sometimes it was important to stay out of the house.” He swallowed thickly, bracing himself for the impending barrage of follow up questions.

Instead she just nodded, seeming to understand in a way he hadn’t been expecting, “My sister used to take me out to the edge of a river – Sweetwater – all the way to the edge of this cliff. She’d lay out a blanket and we’d curl up under the stars, and she’d just let me tell her all about them for a few hours.” She smiled a bit, “She definitely didn’t care about any of it the way I did, but she’d pretend for me. Let me plan our space launch, help me mentally decorate our moon house, stuff like that. It meant everything to me – probably the same way it did to your sister.”

The softness of Betty’s tone caused Jughead’s heart to jump. It was so full of understanding and kindness, but tinged with a sadness he couldn’t understand. He felt his chest constrict, uncertain of whether it was filled with gratitude or concern.

He felt the sudden impulse to reach out, to place a hand on her shoulder or wrap his arms around her neck. It was an unfamiliar response, the instinct to comfort, something that had historically been reserved for his sister. He cleared his throat, hoping to stop himself before desire made him foolish, “Sorry your space career didn’t work out.” He joked, albeit a bit forcefully, “You would have totally rocked the suit.”

“It’s okay.” Betty laughed, easily taking his direction and quickly injecting the air with a lighter tone, “I’m not sure I could have lived without real pizza anyway.”

“They don’t have pizza in space?” Jughead’s eyes widened, genuinely horrified at the prospect of a life without such an essential part of his meal regime.

“Nope.” Betty shook her head, “It’s impossible to cook the crust properly.”

“No wonder you decided not to be an astronaut.” Jughead joked, pausing as they stopped at Jupiter.

“What about you?” Betty asked. “Did you always want to be a writer?”

Jughead took his time to respond, “Writing has just… always been a part of me I guess. I just – I’m not sure there’s a more pure form of expression than thoughts being solidified on paper. There’s a permanence to it, a capturing of intangible things in a tangible way that I’ve always found reassuring.”

“A way to hold on to things that would otherwise be forgotten. I totally get it.” Betty nodded, “I’ve always thought the written word was the best form of communication. You can really get to know a person through the way they choose to write.”

“You write for the Campus Courier, right?” Jughead asked, shoving his hands in his pockets to offset the slight chill of the night.

“Sort of,” Betty shrugged, “Mostly I get coffee. I’m pretty much a glorified intern for now.” She glanced off, her eyes settling on something Jughead couldn’t quite see, “But it will be worth it when I finally get to write my own articles.”

“You really like journalism, don’t you?”

“I think there are a lot of truths in the world that people don’t bother looking for. Most people just accept the surface story, never bothering to look beyond initial impressions. Journalists have the power to alter the story, to dig deep and show the world another side.”

Jughead watched her as she spoke, her eyes sparking with conviction. She had so much faith in her words, as if she had hung her every belief upon them, he couldn’t understand how she carried them as a mere hobby.

“Betty?” He asked softly, his voice prying her eyes away from the display of solar beauty before them, “If you’re so passionate about journalism, why aren’t you pursuing it?”

She looked at him for a moment, swallowing hard as her lips tightened into a thin line. She cast her eyes down toward her feet, and Jughead could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she formulated her response.

“It’s complicated.” She whispered, offering Jughead a soft smile in place of any true vulnerability. “I know how stupid that sounds, that something as simple as my major could be a concern, I just -” She took a breath, “Like I said it’s complicated.”

It was his turn to nod, not quite sure how to further reassure her. “Trust me,” he sympathized, “I know all about complicated.”

They finished out the pathway, stopping short in front of the beaming sun. Its glow lit up the space around them, casting yellow shadows across the curves of their faces and softening the air around them. Jughead turned to Betty, taking a moment to analyze her delicate features while she was distracted. She was still as beautiful as the day she walked into the diner, but there was something new there: something lying beneath the surface that he couldn’t quite pin down. Jughead was stuck with the same sense he had experienced back at the diner: the sense that there was something beneath Betty’s surface, something hidden away behind her soft cardigans and perfect ponytails.

“Do you ever think that maybe your life is just destined to be one way no matter how hard you try to push it in another direction? I mean, do you think we have any real control?”

Jughead’s eyebrows furrowed a bit at her unexpected candidness, “I don’t really know.” He answered honestly, “I think… I think the universe rewards genuine efforts. I think I have to believe that, otherwise what’s the point?”

If the universe wasn’t going to reward him, then he was destined to end up alone in a dive bar somewhere, day drunk and hopeless, and that wasn’t something Jughead could just accept. Besides, if the universe wasn’t rewarding him, then how could he explain himself standing here now?

“I hope you’re right.” Betty whispered, her eyes turning a bit glassy in the sun’s reflection.

Jughead wasn’t sure why, but he had the distinct feeling that whatever was running through Betty’s head was related to that night at the party. Though they hadn’t discussed it, Jughead had fallen asleep on more than one occasion with the image of her tear stained face printed on his eyelids. He wanted to ask her, wanted to know just what had caused her such panic, wanted to somehow try to make it all better, but he didn’t know how.

Besides, sharing secrets was a two-way street, and Jughead wasn’t sure he was prepared to take that ride. He had only just started to have Betty near, surely he could hold on a bit longer before he pushed her away with the truth – the whole truth.

Still, if he stood there any longer he was sure he would burst.

“I think it’s getting pretty late.” He mumbled, instantly regretting the way his words seemed to break whatever spell had blanketed itself over the two.

“Yeah, we should get going.” Betty cleared her throat to dissipate the tension, a faint blush crossing over her cheeks.

She probably thought she had crossed a line, that she had pushed the boundaries too far by risking a moment of openness. But that wasn’t it at all. It was Jughead that was toeing the line, his heart actively playing with fire every time he looked her way.

He shivered, suddenly aware of how cool the evening had turned. He tightened his jacket around his chest, frowning as he watched Betty do the same. The changing of the seasons was upon them, and it didn’t appear as though the weather was going to be forgiving.

“Come on.” He nudged her side, doing his best to alter his somber smile to something more genuine, “I’ll walk you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Leave a comment, and then come find me on tumblr!!!


	8. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy look at me, back on track with the weekly updates!
> 
> As always, much love to my beautiful beta @riverdalelovee over on tumblr

Betty woke up feeling anxious. She had a slight headache from clenching her jaw through the night, and there was an itch beneath her skin she couldn’t quite seem to scratch.

She wasn’t sure where the feeling of unease was originating, honestly there were far too many stressors in her life to keep track. It could be her schoolwork, or her deadlines at the Courier, but she had a feeling it boiled down to Archie. She was still avoiding him after that horrible party incident, and the mixture of guilt and self-loathing was stewing inside her.

Rolling over, Betty picked her phone of her nightstand just in time to see the screen light up with an all too familiar name. Glancing over at her sleeping roommate, Betty quickly threw her slippers on and ducked into the hallway, not wanting to cause a disturbance. When she had safely shut the door behind her, she cleared her throat and hit the answer button, forcing herself to smile into the phone even though no one was around to see it.

“Hello?” She spoke hesitantly, ducking into the stairwell in a poor attempt for privacy.

“Betty?” Her mother’s voice came shrill through the phone, effectively worsening the dull pang in Betty’s head, “You sound tired, did you just wake up? Darling it’s almost ten o’clock what on earth are you doing?”

“Ten o’clock on a Saturday is a pretty reasonable time for a college student to be waking up.” Betty mumbled, forgetting herself a bit in her sleepy daze.

“What was that?” The voice burst through the phone, a slight edge forcing its way through the line.

“Nothing!” Betty fumbled, already regretting answering the call, “I was up late studying, that’s all.”

“Are you falling behind in your studies? You know there are plenty of options if you’re struggling.” Her mother started, “You should be attending more office hours. Or have you found a study group? You know how important it is for you to be making contacts sweetheart, especially if you want a good internship this summer. Do we need to get you a tutor? I did some research and your accounting professor has a rather low historical grade distribution -”

“I don’t need a tutor Mom.” Betty squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to keep her tone steady, “I’m ahead in all of my classes, I’m attending office hours regularly, and my study group meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not to mention I’m building my resume with my participation in the Young Professionals club and The Campus Courier.”

“And what about your exercise – are you finding time to work out? Just because you’re not on the cheerleading team anymore is no excuse to let yourself go. I know what kind of food they offer in those dining halls, you need to be sure you’re choosing wisely. And I think – Betty? Betty are you still listening to me?”

“Of course mom, I’m still here.” Betty pinched, “And I’m staying healthy. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Alright.” Her mother calmed, seemingly placated with Betty’s answers, “I’m glad you have everything under control.” She sighed dramatically, a breath clearly intended for Betty to hear, “You have always been such a perfect daughter. Unlike that sister of yours –“

“Mom!” Betty cut her off, “Can we not talk about Polly? Please?”

“I raised you both, I’m just not sure how the two of you turned out so differently.”

“ _Mom._ ” Betty repeated, a bit more forcefully. She may let her mother push her around when it came to a lot of things, but Polly had always been and would always be where she drew the line.

“Alright, alright, fine. No use focusing on that when we should be focusing on you cultivating your potential. Which reminds me –“

“Hey mom? I’ve actually gotta go. I’m meeting up with a friend to work on a group project.” She was lying of course, she had no plans for the day beyond general schoolwork, but her mother didn’t need to know that.

“Of course darling,” Alice seemed to accept her excuse, “Call me later. We need to discuss your trip home for Thanksgiving.”

“I will. Bye mom.” Betty hung up the phone, dropping her head to her hands and breathing a sigh of relief at the silence. She had forgotten about her trip home. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, but she had been so caught up in building a life here at school she hadn’t given thought to going back.

Her life was already so vastly different from how it had been in Riverdale. Back at home, she was _Betty Cooper_ : town sweetheart and most likely to succeed. Here at school, she was becoming Betty Cooper: drunken mess and total disaster.

She still couldn’t believe how big a fool of herself she had been. She’d been avoiding Archie all week, making an effort to eat at different locations and take new routes to class. It was silly, she knew, but she also knew seeing him would mean talking about the party and she wasn’t ready for that.

That’s why she had been spending so much time with Jughead, really. He had been so sweet to her, picking her up at the party with no real incentive. And he was the only person who didn’t know what happened, who wasn’t asking questions about that night. Veronica had texted her a few times, Betty offering small excuses about feeling sick and then carefully checking the hallway before leaving her dorm.

Jughead had surprised Betty. He was smart and witty and unexpectedly kind-hearted. She really thought she had been gaining a new friend until last night.

She had overshared, she knew she had. She wasn’t sure why, something about the atmosphere had brought her walls down and loosened her lips. Where on earth had all of that “do you think we have any control” talk come from? It wasn’t really a question she knew she was asking until it was already hanging in the air, waving around and kicking up all the layers of dirt she had tried to bury her worries beneath.

_Did_ she have any control? She had spent so much of her time pushing and pushing against the world, trying to bring together an image that never seemed to fit. It had always been such a simple picture: bringing Archie back to her and pulling all the threads of her life that had unraveled back into place. Archie had a girlfriend now, it was a reality she needed to adjust to.

Was she pushing too hard? Had she built an image up in her mind that was unachievable? She and Archie, they had been a twosome for as long as she could remember, Betty wasn’t quite certain what – or rather, _who_ – she was meant to be without him.

She trekked slowly back to her room, surprised to find the lights on and her roommate, Amber, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop in front of her.

“Good morning.” Betty sighed, a tired smile crossing her lips.

“Morning.” Amber mumbled back, her eyes not even bothering to flit up from her screen, “Rough start?”

Betty nodded, crossing over to her bed and starting to pull the sheets back into place. She may not be in Riverdale anymore, but her instinct to keep a bedroom tidy wasn’t something she could easily leave behind.

“Boyfriend troubles?” Amber asked, her eyebrow quirking up in a mixed display of curiosity and concern.

“Archie is _not_ my boyfriend.” Betty stated, an edge brought on to her voice by the tired mantra. “He’s just a friend.”

“No, not the red head. I meant the other one - the one with the funny name. What was it?”

Betty stopped, turning to look at Amber with confusion etched on her face, “Are you talking about Jughead?”

“Yeah, that’s it!” Amber snapped her fingers in excitement, “Gosh what a weird name. Everything okay between you two?”

Betty wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Amber thought she was dating Jughead? What had made her think that? She frowned, confused by the suggestion, “Jughead isn’t my boyfriend either.”

“Oh, sorry. I just thought with all the time the two of you were spending together…” Amber shrugged, “Guess I misinterpreted.”

“Yeah...” Betty trailed off, turning back to her bed sheets to distract from the unfamiliar mix of emotions suddenly churning through her head. It was just… so ridiculous. She and Jughead weren’t like that… right?

Not that Jughead wasn’t dateable. He was kind and attentive, and she’d have to be blind to think he wasn’t attractive, but that wasn’t the relationship they had. They were confidants, to an extent. She had gotten the feeling they were both using each other as an escape from the real issues in their lives: a clean slate found in a new person. What exactly that defined their relationship as, she wasn’t sure. Friends didn’t really seem like an adequate word, but boyfriend was _definitely_ not the right term. Not that it would be a totally terrible label, she supposed…

Betty shook her head, sitting down on her now pristine bed and trying to grasp hold of reality. Why on earth is she even humoring this? Nothing about their relationship thus far had indicated Jughead wanted anything more from her. And Betty – well, Betty had enough boy issues already.

As if on cue, her phone lit up to show a text from Archie: a seemingly random gif of puppies clamoring out of a basket. She chuckled to herself, sending back a smiley emoji in response. While Archie may have been oblivious to what exactly was wrong with Betty, he was smart enough to pick up on the shift in her mood. Never one for actual confrontation, he’d simply resorted to sending her cute gif sets and funny YouTube links in his attempt to cheer her up.

**_“If you like those puppies, you should come with me to see some real ones.”_ **

Betty frowned down at her phone in confusion, quickly firing back a response.

**_“What?”_ **

His response came back moments later.

**_“The local animal shelter is having an adoption event on the main lawn! We should go”_ **

Betty took a deep breath, her mind already filing its way through her list of excuses. She was halfway through typing a response when she glanced back up at the puppy gif and stopped herself. He really did have her best interests at heart. He was just a bit clueless, that wasn’t his fault. Besides, what was her plan, avoid him forever?

Betty pulled her lower lip under her teeth, typing a new response and hitting send before she lost her nerve.

**_“I’ll be there”_ **

Twenty minutes later Betty was dressed (no she wasn’t looking nice for Archie, they were going somewhere public she needed to look presentable) and headed off to meet him on the main lawn.

There was a fairly sizeable crowd when she arrived, so Betty quickly shot off a text to Archie to let her know she’d arrived and shuffling off toward the nearest puppy pen.

She crouched down in front of the pen, giggling as a small labrador retriever ran up to greet her, whining with the desire to be touched.

“You know you can get in there with them.”

Betty jumped, turning around to find Archie standing behind her with a giant grin on his face, “How are you Betts? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

He stepped forward and embraced her, Betty stiffening for a moment before relaxing in his arms. He was right, somehow a week without him suddenly felt like an eternity.

“Seriously Betty, are you okay? You kind of disappeared after that party.” Betty pulled away, offering him a small smile in the hopes of placating him.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been super busy, you know how it is – especially with my mom breathing down my neck.”

Archie laughed, “Oh c’mon she’s not that bad.” He slung his arm over her shoulder, “Well, you’re here now – let’s go play with some puppies, shall we?”

Betty nodded excitedly as she rushed toward the play pen, Archie offering his hand as she stepped inside for balance.

A small Yorkshire Terrier was instantly at Betty’s feet, and Betty quickly set herself cross legged on the grass and allowing the pup to crawl into her lap. She giggled as the puppy lapped at her chin, smiling as Archie settled on the grass beside her.

“What’s your name, huh buddy?” Betty cooed at the dog, giving him a couple scratches behind the ear.

“That’s Pepper.” A volunteer spoke, a brunette girl in a deep purple “Pet-A-Pup” shirt, “He’s definitely one of our more active dogs.”

“Well he’s absolutely adorable,” Betty grinned, nuzzling her nose in Pepper’s fur. “I wish I could take him home with me today.”

“I’m sure your RA would love that,” Archie joked, reaching out and giving Pepper his own scratch. The volunteer smiled at them, seemingly determining them to be responsible enough before walking off to assist a slightly older couple. Betty focused her attention back on Pepper, noting Archie out of the corner of her eye as he went about wrangling his own dog.

“I am sorry - that I went AWOL this past week.” Betty said abruptly, the words tumbling out unexpectedly.

“It’s completely forgiven,” Archie replied, allowing the tension to be glossed over with an ease only he seemed to possess. It was the kind of simplicity that always accompanied interactions with Archie, an instant forgetting of any and all road bumps they faced. Betty smiled, nodding down at her dog as she felt their dynamic settle back into its rightful place. Maybe being friends with Archie wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“I’m just glad you were free to come with me to this after Valerie backed out.”

Betty didn’t reply for a moment, the fervor with which she had been scratching Pepper’s ears slowly just a bit. “Valerie was supposed to come with you?”

“Yeah,” Archie set his puppy down and picked up another, chuckling a bit as it licked at his chin, “I mean, until her professor sprung this big project on her for the weekend. I almost thought I wasn’t going to be able to go. Thank God I always have you, right?” He looked up at her, brown eyes shining with a sincerity that read like a knife in her heart.

“I uh,” Betty shook her head, “I just remembered I have this – this article I have to finish editing. I should really go.” She set Pepper down, giving her one final pat before standing abruptly and moving out of the pen.

“Woah, wait –“ Archie jumped up, placing his puppy on the ground and moving to follow. She kept moving, ignoring his obvious attempt to catch her. “Betty, Betty hold up!” He caught hold of her wrist, forcing her to twist toward him and come to a sudden halt. “What just happened?”

Betty squeezed her eyes shut, “You invited _Valerie_ , Archie. You invited Valerie and when she didn’t show up and _then_ you thought of me. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“I don’t – it’s just a campus event -”

“It’s _not_ just a campus event Archie! It’s everything. Every dinner date that gets cancelled, every homework assignment you don’t understand, every bored night in when no one is available.” She felt like something inside her had burst, all of her frustration bubbling toward the surface and tumbling out, “Don’t you get it? For a year and a half now I have played your backup girlfriend, and I’m sick of it! You just keep me holding on, forcing me to wait in the wings while you parade around an endless list of better options.”

“Betty,” Archie stepped toward her, brow furrowing in hurt as she quickly backed away, “You’re not my backup anything, I don’t -”

“Just stop it Arch. I just – I thought I could do this. I thought I could hang out with you and pretend everything was normal and be your friend but I can’t.” Her voice had reduced to a whisper, the admission that had been beneath the surface barely finding the courage to make itself known, “I just can’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying...” Betty let her shoulders drop, “I’m saying I think I need some space. I don’t think you and I can be friends right now. I’m sorry Archie I - I have to go.”

She turned to leave, and this time Archie didn’t bother to follow her. She tried to ignore the intense disappointment that banged in her chest when she realized he really wasn’t coming after her. He was leaving her be, giving her the space she had asked for.

He was failing to fight for her the same way he had so many times in the past.

She did her best to pretend not to see the looks she was getting as she darted across campus with tear-stained cheeks. She made it all the way back to her room, pausing at her door before making a one eighty and knocking on the door across the hall.

Veronica swung open the door, concern instantly crossing her face, “Betty? Are you okay?”

“Can I come in?” Betty asked, her face contorting as a fresh wave of tears overcame her.

Veronica didn’t even respond, hurriedly pulling her across the threshold and into a tight hug. Betty grasped on to her back, instantly crumpling in Veronica’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” She cried into her shoulder, “I’m so so sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I was just embarrassed and I knew that if I came here you’d tell me the truth and I didn’t want to hear it.”

“The truth about what? Betty what happened?” Veronica pulled away, leaving both hands on Betty’s shoulders and letting her eyes rake over her face.

Betty’s chest dropped, her hand coming up to wipe away the tears on her cheek. She smiled softly, her face shifting with gratitude at the comfort of her friend. Why did she ever think avoiding Veronica was a good idea? She wasn’t sure how she’d ever survive without her.

She pushed further into Veronica’s room, settling down onto her plush sofa with a dramatic sigh.

“I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading!! Lots of love to you all <3


	9. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God bless @riverdalelovee for being the greatest beta of all time

_Jughead,_

_I’m not quite sure how this goes – it’s been years since I’ve written a letter, much less one of this much importance. I never have had quite the gift for words you do. Part of my recovery process is making amends, and since you refuse to answer any of my calls I hope you will at least read this letter._

_Son, I am sorry. I have been a terrible father. I’ve made too many mistakes to count, many of them I was too drunk to properly recall. But I’m sure you remember them. I left you to clean up my mess, to raise your sister and care for your mother. I drove our family apart with my own selfishness and weakness. And I’m sorry._

_I know this is not my first attempt at recovery, but I mean it this time, I swear. I’m clean, three weeks now. I know you won’t believe me – so give me the opportunity to prove it. Come visit me, see for yourself. Allow me to apologize in person. Please son, you are welcome any time._

_~~Love, Dad~~_

_F.P._

Jughead stared at the letter, his thumb tracing over the scribbled out closing.

Love, Dad.

He could almost imagine his father, hunched over a nondescript table, surrounded by nondescript walls, foolishly penning the signature before realizing he had no right to such niceties. He wondered how long he had debated just leaving it, how much of him had wanted to leave it. He wondered if it really meant anything, or if it was simply a thoughtless copying of whatever template he had surely been given.

It was a load of crap, all of it. Just something they required in whatever crack-pot treatment center he was in. He was just fulfilling his duties, checking off the tasks on his lists in order to earn his booze-filled freedom.

That’s what he reminded himself, over and over again. It was the only way to counteract the warm glow of hope swirling in his stomach. He wasn’t allowed to hope. Hope was where pain thrived, and Jughead was done with pain.

He crumpled the letter a bit too forcefully, throwing it into the trash bin next to his desk. He stared at it for a moment, the white crinkles reaching out toward him, taunting him, distracting him. As he turned back to his laptop, he couldn’t stop his eye from wandering back to the bin again and again. Its pale surface stood out against the darker, more colorful food wrappers, distinguishing itself as the thing that clearly did not belong. Eventually the subtle view seemed to scream at him, overriding his brain and pushing him toward what he was certain was the brink of insanity. In a fit of irritation, he reached down and pulled the letter from the bin, tossing it in his bottom desk drawer and forcing it from view with a satisfying slam.

“You okay dude?” Archie asked, clearly taking notice of the dark storm cloud brewing above Jughead’s head.

“Fine,” He grumbled, “Just family stuff. It’s nothing.” Jughead turned back to his computer, gluing his eyes to the screen to avoid looking up at Archie’s, which were certainly burning holes into his forehead.

Archie seemed to size him up, but Jughead just continued to type as if he didn’t notice, “Hey, you know what we should do? Go to the gym.”

The tapping stopped, and Jughead glared up at Archie beneath creased brows, “Why on earth would I do that?”

“I know it’s not exactly your thing,” Archie laughed, “but exercise can be great stress relief. I was going to head over anyway, you should join me.”

As much as Jughead hated to admit it, Archie had a bit of a point. Jughead was brimming with pent-up frustration, it would probably be healthy to work some of it out. After all, if he was going to actually use college as a fresh start, he couldn’t keep brooding in his emotions like he had in the past. College was meant to be a time for new experiences, right?

“Do I get to hit something?”

Archie grinned, “That can definitely be arranged.”

* * *

Turns out, the campus gym had punching bags.

Jughead and Archie pounded on them for an hour, switching off on who stabilized and who got to throw punches. Jughead didn’t have nearly the upper body strength Archie did, but what he lacked in muscle he more than made up for in pure rage.

_Jab_

He heard his mother’s cries, angry and desperate, as she fought with a drunkard who was too incoherent to fight back.

_Jab_

He watched his sister being pulled into a minivan, her wails audible through the car doors and echoing down the street.

_Jab_

He felt his father’s rough hands on his shoulder, gripping to the point of pain as he vowed to get help, the scent of alcohol dripping from every breath.

He didn’t stop until his lungs were screaming, sweat dripping down his forehead. He finally pulled back, Archie giving the bag one last tap before stepping away to grab his water bottle.

“Feels pretty great right?” He grinned, chest rising and falling dramatically. Jughead didn’t understand how Archie could feel so happy. Jughead may have felt a bit lighter, but it was mostly that his exhaustion preventing him from feeling much of anything.

“Feels… tiring.” Jughead countered, sitting down on a bunch as he watched Archie grab a set of dumbbells. “How could you possibly have the energy to do any more arms?”

“Hey, you don’t get biceps like these without pushing yourself.” Archie said, a cocky smile plastered on his face. “Sure you don’t want to try? We can get you a lighter weight- ”

“No man, trust me I’m good.” Jughead put his hands up in protest, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “I think I’ll just rest for a minute. Or a century.”

Archie laughed, turning back to his weights and focusing on his triceps. The two existed in silence for a few minutes, the general chatter of other gym goers and the clanging on weights filling the space.

“So are you going home next weekend?” Archie asked, casually breaking the silence.

Right. Thanksgiving weekend. Not exactly the kind of holiday a person with strangers for a mother and sister and an alcoholic for a father looked forward to.

“I think I’m probably just going to stick around campus.”

“Woah seriously?” Archie set down his weights to face Jughead head on, “You can’t seriously have no Thanksgiving plans.”

Jughead shrugged, doing his best to appear nonchalant. Which really wasn’t hard, seeing as Thanksgiving had been a nonevent in his life for years.

Archie seemed to think about it for a moment, and Jughead swore he could see the actual mental gears grinding. “You should come home with me!” He exclaimed, his face lighting up with excitement.

Jughead shook his head, caught off guard by such a sudden suggestion, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m fine staying here, really. I’ll have campus all to myself – it’ll be nice.”

“No way, you’re coming home with me. My dad will love you! Besides, I could probably use the buffer what with – wait, you and Betty are like, friends, right?”

Jughead frowned for a moment, confused by Archie’s mid-sentence topic change, before pondering the question. Were they friends? They’d hung out quite a bit lately, and they seemed to be getting along. He supposed by any outsiders definition, they must be friends.

“Yeah,” Jughead nodded, “I guess so.”

“That settles it. You have to come home with me – I need a buffer between Betty and me. Seriously I don’t think I can handle two hours of silence in a car with her.”

“Silence?” Jughead asked, “Why would it be silent?”

Jughead couldn’t really picture the two in silence, not unless they were curled into one another and watching a tv show or something. Betty and Archie were best friends, silence wasn’t exactly something to be associated with the two.

“You mean she didn’t tell you?” Archie looked surprised, “She’s pretty pissed at me right now. We haven’t really talked in like two weeks.”

What? Archie and Betty were fighting? How had Betty failed to mention something that important? A sudden thought pierced through Jughead’s mind, fueled by insecurity and paranoia: what if the only reason Betty had spent time with him was because she didn’t have Archie?

No, that was ridiculous. Maybe it had started that way, but certainly by now it had evolved past that. Besides, if she really was looking to fill some sort of Archie-shaped void she picked the wrong person.

“What happened?” Jughead asked.

Archie shook his head, “I screwed up big time. You should have seen her – I’ve never seen her so upset. And it’s different from any other time we’ve fought, she’d never cut me off like this before. She didn’t even stop talking to me when we broke up.”

Jughead’s head was spinning. Betty had cut Archie out? For what? What could he have possibly done? And what did that mean for Betty? Was she okay? She hadn’t said anything to him, unless…

Unless this all had something to do with that party. Unless this had something to do with the somber tone their late night adventure had taken.

“So you in?” Archie asked when Jughead hadn’t said anything.

Jughead thought about it for a minute. Or at least, pretended to think about it. Even if it was only as a buffer, he would happily accept the opportunity to see where Betty had come from, to understand a bit more the experiences that had shaped her. Piece by piece, Betty had slowly been revealing herself to him, but Jughead wanted more, craved more. He wanted to know absolutely everything about her – not just who she was now, but who she had been before.

Plus, a free homemade meal? No way Jughead could pass that up.

“Okay.” Jughead nodded, “I’m in.”

“Yes!” Archie shouted, jumping to his feet and pumping his weights in the air in excitement. He quickly followed the motion by beginning a new set of reps, clearly having decided it was time to return to his workout.

Jughead rolled his eyes at the masculine display, standing up and announcing that he was going to hit the showers and get some dinner.

He was just on his way out when he heard someone calling his name from the treadmills. He turned sharply, looking around in confusion when he registered a somewhat familiar girl with jet black hair waving to him in the middle of her sprint. He knew he had seen her before, but he couldn’t quite place where. Classes? No, that’s not right. Did she live in his dorm? That didn’t feel correct either. Maybe at the coffee shop?

Suddenly it clicked, and Jughead knew exactly where she had seen this girl before. Though they had never formally been introduced, he’d heard her name cross Betty’s lips enough times to remember it.

“Veronica, right?” He asked, smiling as she nodded her confirmation, “What’s up?”

“Look,” Veronica set her headphones on the monitor in front of her, “I’m just going to get straight to the point: what are you doing on Monday?”

Jughead was a bit off put by the question, but he found himself more intimated by the fact that Veronica hadn’t broken her stride during their interaction. She continued to sprint at (Jughead peeked at her monitor) seven miles an hour and her voice was still crystal clear. _Maybe Veronica could give Archie a run for his money_ , he thought.

“Jughead?” Veronica repeated, snapping her fingers to regain his attention, “I asked if you had plans on Monday?”

“Oh, uh,” Jughead reached a hand up to the back of his neck, “Nothing, I guess? Just preparing to leave for break …” He trailed off, unsure as to what Veronica’s intentions could be.

“Excellent.” Veronica grinned, “There’s this party and -”

“I’m not really the party type.” Jughead cut her off. “And no offense, but I’m not really sure why you’re even inviting me.”

“Oh please,” Veronica waved off his modesty, “We both know you and Betty are slowly but surely forming your own little duo. Every time I talk to her it’s _‘Jughead and I did this’_ or _‘Jughead said that’_ – I swear you’re like 90% of her social life at this point. Less so now that we’ve reunited, obviously, but still. And as her self-proclaimed bestie it’s my job to get to know everyone in Betty’s life. You included, loner boy.”

“Okay…” Jughead frowned, confused by the whole interaction, “Couldn’t the three of us just get coffee and do homework instead?”

“Nonsense.” Veronica insisted, finally hitting a button on her treadmill that brought the machine to a halt. “Everyone is headed home for Thanksgiving on Tuesday so we’re throwing a party to blow off steam one last time before returning to the oppressive reigns of our parents. I for one keep up an extensive social calendar, and if you didn’t come to the party we wouldn’t be able to meet until after break.” She placed both hands on her hips in what was obviously a power move, “So will you just agree to come? Or am I going to have to do some further persuading, Jughead.”

His name sounded funny in her mouth, and, though he knew she was joking, Jughead got the very distinct impression that crossing a girl like Veronica was how people woke up in a foreign country with nothing but their clothes on their back and no recollection of how they got there.

He didn’t say anything, opting simply to nod. Veronica took that as all the confirmation she needed, starting the treadmill back up and effectively bringing the conversation to an end. “I’ll be reaching out,” she said, already pulling her headphones back into her ears.

Jughead backed away, breathing a sigh of relief as he escaped Veronica’s view. She was quite an overwhelming presence, that much was for sure. Still, he could see why Betty liked her, why the two of them would get along.

An invitation to a party and an invitation to a hometown – this had to be some kind of record for most invites per gym trip in social history. It was practically more social invites than he’d received throughout the entirety of middle and high school combined. And none of it had anything to do with his nonexistent charisma – no, this was all because of Betty. He never imagined a single person could have such an impact, but even when she wasn’t around she was opening his life up to new experiences and new people.

God, she was incredible.

He needed to prove himself, to show that he was more than the letter buried in his drawer, more than the past he worked so hard to escape. He needed to prove that he was good enough to be her friend, and maybe even something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop whoop! Thanks for reading!!! A lot of exciting things are coming - next chapter is definitely one of my favorites so far so keep an eye out!


	10. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! I'm thankful to you for opening up this update lol
> 
> Here it is - Chapter Ten! You guys have no idea how long I've waited for this chapter. In fact, this chapter was the first thing I EVER wrote for this fic - it was just a little one shot that evolved into an entire alternate universe! This chapter is very near and dear to my heart (and may or may not be inspired by real events), and I'm so so ready to share it with you! I promised myself I wouldn't go on too long (I totally could), so I'll just leave you to it! Enjoy!

“Veronica, I really don’t want to go to this party.” Betty said for what felt like the millionth time that evening. Veronica paid her no mind, waving a highlighter brush in her direction as she continued to inspect her makeup in the mirror.

“Don’t be silly, you have to come. I need someone to get me home.” Veronica made eye contact in the mirror’s reflection, pouting her lip, “You wouldn’t want to leave me all defenseless and drunk now, would you?”

Betty sighed, “C’mon V, don’t make me.” She paused for a moment, biting her bottom lip, “Remember what happened last time I went to a party? Besides, I’m pretty sure Archie is going to be there…”

“Oh, B.” Veronica turned all the way around then, cooing sympathetically as she did, “I thought you were over that.”

“I am!” Betty proclaimed, earning an accusatory look from Veronica, “I am.” She said more definitively. “I just… I really don’t want to see him just yet. I’m already going to have to endure the trip home to Riverdale with him tomorrow. Alcohol and Archie… I’m afraid the combination would cause me to backslide.”

“Fine, you don’t have to go. Even though I know that’s a ridiculous fear because you have _me_ to remind you of how amazing you are.” Betty rolled her eyes at Veronica’s persistence, knowing the truth those words held. “ _But_ ,” Veronica continued, “you still have to come to the pre-game. _No excuses._ You can hang out at Kev’s until the party is over and then you can drive my inebriated-self home. Deal?”

Betty looked at Veronica, releasing a dramatic sigh when she realized this was a fight she wasn’t going to win.

“Deal.”

“Amazing.” Veronica clapped her hands together and flashed Betty a devilish grin, seemingly a little _too_ happy at the compromise, “Now help me pick out an outfit for tonight. I’ve got some major heads to turn.”

* * *

 They arrived two hours later at Kevin’s apartment - Betty in jeans and a simple sweater, Veronica in a dark purple crop top and mini skirt so tight Betty wasn’t quite sure how she managed to walk. They let themselves in, finding the group to already be in the kitchen. Kevin was mixing drinks at the counter, and a few other people Betty didn’t recognize were chatting with him.

“Veronica! Betty! You made it!” Kevin shouted over the stereo – apparently even pre-games required blaring music – setting down his drink to come and greet them. He introduced them to the group, the names being forgotten almost as quickly as they were heard, and Betty braced herself for a long evening.

Just as Veronica was downing her fourth shot of the night, Betty saw someone enter the room from the corner of her eye. She turned around, her first genuine smile of the night blooming when she spotted Jughead leaning up against the doorframe.

“Hi!” She said, practically bouncing over to him in relief at another familiar face. “What are you doing here?”

Jughead looked confused, “Uh, Veronica invited me. She didn’t tell you?”

Betty shook her head, “I had no idea. Although this does explain why she asked me for your number…” Suddenly a thought dawned on her, “Did Veronica… I mean, are you and she…”

“What?” Jughead asked, the implication of Betty’s question taking a moment to register, “Oh! No. Definitely not. I mean, she’s cool and all, but she isn’t exactly my type.”

“And what is your type?” Betty quirked an eyebrow, feeling a strange rush of accomplishment as she watched Jughead’s neck flush a soft shade of pink.

“Jughead!” Veronica suddenly called out, rushing over to greet the group’s newest arrival. “You made it! Yay!” Already clearly tipsy, Veronica quickly flung her arms around Jughead, and Betty watched as he stiffened under her touch.

“Veronica,” Betty interrupted, doing her best to pull her best friend away from the clearly uncomfortable Jughead, “I didn’t know you invited Jughead to the party.”

“Yeah I found him at the gym! Isn’t that lucky?”

Betty turned to Jughead and laughed, “You went to the gym? What are you dying?”

He shrugged, “Archie made me go.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here, I don’t really know any of Kevin’s friends and uh, Veronica’s been a bit preoccupied.” Betty nodded over toward Veronica, who had already returned to the makeshift bar, “You’re a little late for the pregame though, pretty sure they were about to head out.”

As if on cue, Kevin suddenly clapped his hands together and captured the attention of the group. “Alright everybody, it’s eleven-thirty. I think it’s safe to say we will be fashionably late to the party.”

“Yayyyyy!” Veronica cheered as she gripped the shoulders of a brunette girl Betty didn’t recognize. “Let’s go!”

The whole of the group filed out quickly, and Betty took the opportunity to go to the bathroom in order to avoid awkwardly watching everyone leave. Returning to an empty kitchen, she took a moment to assess the mess her friends had left behind. She sighed, approaching the counter and turning off the stereo. The silence was jarring, made even more pronounced by the ringing the music had left in her eardrums. Estimating she had at least two hours before anyone returned from the party, Betty busied herself with cleaning up the kitchen.

“Need any help?”

Betty jumped, dropping a shot glass and shattering it on the ground. “Crap.” She muttered, turning around to find out who had caused her such misfortune.

“Oh sorry.” Jughead’s eyes grew wide, “I didn’t mean to scare you I just figured – “

“What are you still doing here?” Betty interrupted him, “Why didn’t you go to the party?”

Jughead opened a small cabinet in the corner and pulled out a dust pan. “Thank God Kevin has supplies,” he muttered. He bent down to the floor and started sweeping up the glass, Betty gratefully stepping away so he didn’t have to brush around her feet. “I don’t really like parties.” He answered her question, “Plus,” he said as he stood back up, catching her eye, “I figured you could use the company.”

There was something about the way he said it that took Betty aback. The seriousness of his tone, the intensity of his gaze… it was almost as if they were having a _moment_.

It must have been her imagination though, because almost as quickly as the thought entered her head he was turning around to dump glass shards into the trashcan and asking her if she wanted to watch some tv.

“It’s just way too quiet in here, and there’s no way I’m turning that music back on.”

“That’s a great idea,” Betty agreed, happy to know she wasn’t the only one made nervous by the silence of the apartment, “But shouldn’t we finish cleaning up first?”

“Did you drink any of this?” Jughead asked, gesturing toward the mess of bottles and glasses on the counter.

“Well, no, but I – “

“If you didn’t make the mess, you don’t have to clean it up. You’re not their maid, Betty.” Jughead reminded her before beckoning her toward the living room. She felt guilt brim up in her as she walked away from the counter, but pushed it down as best she could. He was right, it wasn’t her responsibility. Of course, that wasn’t going to stop her from sneaking back into the kitchen later to finish the job.

They sat down on the L-shaped couch, Betty on one half and Jughead on the other, and turned on the tv. Almost immediately, a late-night _Friends_ episode popped up on the screen.

“This okay with you?” He asked.

“Yeah it’s fine…” she trailed off, looking at him with a smirk and a questioning tilt to her brow.

“What?” He returned, a playful smile on his lips.

“I just figured your artistic taste wouldn’t allow you to watch late-night reruns.”

“I’m still a _teenager_ Betty.” He deadpanned, “I can enjoy things simply for entertainment value.”

“Well good to know,” She laid down, grabbing a pillow and making herself comfortable, “I’m glad you aren’t a total cinematic snob.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jughead quipped, “they may take my snobbery license away, and then how else will I be able to prove that I’m better than everyone?”

Betty laughed, settling further into the couch and focusing her attention on the television. On the screen, they watched as Joey fumbled through an interview with a reporter from a soap opera magazine.

“You know,” Betty broke the silence, “you kind of remind me of a darker, broodier Chandler.”

“Are you serious?” Jughead looked offended, “I’m way cooler than _that_ guy.”

“Maybe,” Betty allowed, “but you’re definitely just as sarcastic.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, “I’ll take sarcastic. Plus, it’s better than being Ross or Joey.” He poked her shoulder playfully, “You’re a total Monica.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean, look at the evidence. I physically had to pull you away from cleaning a half hour ago.”

“Being tidy does _not_ make me a Monica.”

“No, you’re also organized, protective, a total mom of the friend group… admit it, you’re a Monica.”

Betty rolled her eyes, “Fine. I’m a Monica and you’re a Chandler and now I suppose we have to get married.” She laughed, rotating her head to look at him, her laugh stopping short as she realized how close together they were. At some point Jughead had shifted, and now they were laying head to head on the couch, his blue eyes a mere few inches from hers. Something flipped in the pit of Betty’s stomach, and for a moment there was almost…

_Don’t be stupid_. She thought to herself, quickly turning away and refocusing on the television set. “Umm,” she cleared her throat, “do you mind if we switch shows? Maybe we could watch How I Met Your Mother?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jughead shifted, reaching for the remote and effectively diffusing the moment.

“I’m gonna go get a water, do you want anything?” Betty asked, already standing up and heading away from the couch.

“I’m good,” Jughead responded, the confusion caused by her sudden shift in mood evident in his tone.

Betty nodded, scurrying off to the kitchen and pouring herself a water glass. She took a sip, letting the cool water rush down her throat. What was wrong with her? Why was she so flustered?

She needed to calm down – it was just Jughead, they were just watching tv. So why did every sip of water leave her feeling as though she were trying to move her heart from her throat?

After a minute or two (and a small pep talk to snap herself out of it) Betty came back into the living room to find Jughead had shifted even further, twisting all the way upside down so that his legs were swung up on the back of the couch as he fiddled with something on his phone. She laughed, startling him and causing him to jump a bit. He pulled his legs down and righted himself, his cheeks flushing a subtle shade of pink. He looked cute when he was embarrassed, Betty decided.

She sat down, careful not to be too close. They settled back into silence, moving every once in a while to gain comfort on the couch. They probably made it fifteen minutes through an episode before it was Jughead’s turn to speak up.

“Hey Betty?” He swallowed thickly, Betty quickly propping herself up on her elbow to demonstrate that she was paying attention. “Can I – can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, okay.” Betty responded a bit too eagerly, trying to ignore how difficult it was to tear her gaze away from the stray tendril that had escaped his beanie and actually look him in his eyes. Had his hair always curled like that?

“What uh,” He stuttered a bit, “What happened at that party?”

Betty went a bit pale, the party still quite the sore spot. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was surprised he would ask - she supposed it would eat away at any normal person. She had just hoped that enough time would pass to forget the incident altogether.

Sitting up, Betty swung her legs out in front of her and tried to figure out exactly how to respond. It wasn’t that she didn’t think she could trust him with the truth – if anything, Betty strangely trusted Jughead more than anyone else in her life. It was just – somewhere along the way Jughead had become a bit of a refuge. A person fully separate from everything else. With no context for her past, she was able to be whoever she wanted to be with him, she didn’t have to live up to some sort of reputation. If she told him everything, it might piece together parts of her she was desperately trying to keep apart.

Sighing deeply, Betty looking over at him with as little emotion as she could muster, “I told you, I just got tired of it all. Parties aren’t really my scene, obviously.” She gestured around her at the empty living room to emphasize her point.

“Betty…” Jughead’s eyes raked across her face, “Are you sure that’s all that happened? You know I wouldn’t judge you if it was something else, right?”

There was something about his tone, so soft and sincere, that seemed to crack the last of Betty’s resistance. She swallowed, hoping desperately her pride would follow, and stared down at her hands as she spoke, “There was, uh, there was an incident.” She looked up trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t say anything, just returning her gaze, so she continued, “I was just trying to have a little fun, you know? But I had too much to drink, and it kind of forced me to face some realities about… about Archie.”

Betty squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to keep going. She opened her eyes when she felt a pressure of her shoulder, looking over to find that Jughead had placed his hand there in reassurance. She smiled softly, and he returned the gesture by rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“So back in high school, Archie and I… we dated,” Betty looked at Jughead, and one glance was enough to tell her this wasn’t new information, “After we broke up, I really thought I moved on. But then he brought Valerie to that party and…” Betty shook her head, but at what she couldn’t really tell, “You know this is the first time he’s actually dated someone since me? Not that there haven’t been other girls… but none of them were really ever serious enough to be anything more.” She laughed at herself, pressing her face into her hands and groaning, “I’m just pathetic, aren’t I?”

“Hey, hey,” Jughead whispered, his hand trailing from her nearest shoulder all the way across her back to the other, “You’re not pathetic. Not even close.”

“Oh yeah?” Betty scoffed, “Then why have I let myself be Archie’s second choice for so long?”

“It’s human nature to believe people will care about us as much as we care about them.” Jughead muttered, “It’s not our fault if they don’t.”

“I’m not really sure it’s Archie’s fault either.” Betty admitted, “I think both of us just came to expect different things. Which doesn’t make me feel like any less of an idiot. Especially after I freaked out on him the other day and basically screamed about how I couldn’t stand to be his ‘backup girlfriend’ anymore.”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to feel compromised by your emotions,” Jughead assured her, a sadness lingering behind his smile that gave Betty the sudden urge to lean closer into him. So she did. It wasn’t a large movement, just a subtle move inward, but it seemed to catch both of them off guard. He responded quickly, tightening his hold on her shoulder and solidifying her new place in his arms. He was sturdier than she anticipated, but still it was… comforting. Warm. Totally and completely natural.

“I’m grateful for the truth, but I definitely wish it hadn’t come with the alcohol,” Betty laughed, “I think I’m going to avoid drinking for a while. If the embarrassment wasn’t enough, the hangover has definitely dissuaded me.”

“I’m sure you’ll learn how to handle yourself soon enough.” Jughead smiled jokingly, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze for emphasis.

Betty sighed, allowing her head to sway toward him and smiling softly, “I’m sure you’re right. It’s not like one bad night makes me an alcoholic or something.”

Jughead stiffened beneath her, “No. It doesn’t.” He said curtly, clearing his throat standing without warning, “I think I do need that water after all. I’ll be back.”

He quickly exited the room and left Betty alone on the couch, her body a bit sideways as if she was still balancing on his torso. She tried not to overthink what had just happened – was it something she said? – but the sudden chill where Jughead’s arm had been was difficult to ignore.

He came back into the room a few minutes later, the shift in the atmosphere palpable. Betty sat up straight as he planted himself with several feet between them, trying hard not to be disappointed with his choice of location. They watched tv in uncomfortable silence for a while when there is a clanging at the door. Betty looked at Jughead in confusion as the door slammed open and shut, a giggling entering the apartment.

“Hello?” Jughead called out, unable to see the visitor from the living room.

Kevin stumbled into the room, a dark-haired male on his arm. He looked surprised to see them on his couch, his face breaking out into an oversized grin, “Oh hey you two! This is Adam. He and I were just…” He trailed off, placing his hand on Adam’s chest and giggling. Adam said something indiscernible, causing Kevin to erupt into a fit of laughter. “Everyone else should be coming back in a few, but I just wanted to show Adam… something up in my bedroom first.”

The duo quickly disappeared from sight, their voices fading away behind a slamming door. Betty looked over at Jughead, who quirked an eyebrow. “Did Kevin just bring home a one night stand?” He asked, all traces of awkwardness vanishing as Betty trying to stifle a giggle. He nodded, pressing his lips together in amusement, “Okay then. Maybe we should get out of here before anything gets too -”

He was cut off by the second loud bang of the night, the volume of the room increasing as Veronica, Cheryl, and the rest of Kevin’s friends came crowding into the living room.

“Betty!” Veronica squealed, quickly jumping onto the couch and forcing even further space between Betty and Jughead, “Hi!” She grinned, her breath tinged with the smell of flavored vodka. “Guess what? I found Cheryl at the party!” Betty pulled away the best she could, Veronica crowding her space in a less than comfortable form. She looked around to see that Jughead had excused himself, clearly just as off put by the rowdy group as she was.

Realizing she was squished onto the couch, Veronica on her left and a rather trashed Cheryl on her right, Betty resigned herself to drunk mother duties and turned toward Veronica. “How was the party V?” She plastered a smile on her face.

“Sooooo much fun!” Veronica practically yelled, earning herself some vocal agreement from the room, “You should have been there, I – oh!” Veronica gasped, her eyes going wide as something registered in her hazy mind, “Where did Jughead go?” She looked around, her brow furrowed in concentration as she took inventory of the room.

Betty tried not to laugh at her childish manner, “You must have just missed him.”

Veronica frowned, pulling her arms away from Betty and crossing them over her chest, “He’s supposed to be here!” She whined, standing up suddenly, “I’m gonna go find him.” She darted off before Betty could protest, disappearing around a corner for a minute before reappearing with a very reluctant Jughead on her arm.

“Found him!” She announced, pulling him down next to Betty on the couch with a face full of pride. Jughead smiled sheepishly at Betty, the two of them sharing a knowing look that could only exist between the sober people in the room.

“Hey turn the tv up!” Some guy yelled, searching around the room clumsily for a remote, “I love this show! Barney Simpson is the man!”

“Ah yes,” Jughead nodded as the volume exploded from the television, “The famous ‘Nothing Good Happens After Two AM’ episode.” He glanced around the room, nudging Betty playfully with his elbow, “The irony may be lost on all of them, but it certainly isn’t lost on me.”

Betty laughed, watching as two of Kevin’s friends began to arm wrestle on the floor, “I’m sure they’ll learn their lesson when they wake up with hangovers tomorrow.”

Betty pulled her phone out of her pocket, Jughead’s statement settling over her a bit more. Was it really past two am? She tapped her home button and frowned. 2:13 AM. She hadn’t realized how long Veronica had been at the party, or how much time she and Jughead had spent together.

 “Bettttyyyy,” Veronica whispered in much too loud a manner, pulling at Betty’s sleeve like a child, “Did you and Jughead have fun tonight?”

She looked up at Betty with wide eyes, and Betty got the feeling she might cry if her response wasn’t enthusiastic enough. “Yes Veronica, Jughead and I had a great time.”

Veronica grinned, excitedly embracing Betty with a squeal, “I knew it! Are you gonna get married?”

Betty stilled, pulling Veronica off her in surprise. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jughead’s cheeks growing red, and Betty felt the overwhelming sense of embarrassment swell in her chest.

“Veronica!” She quietly chastised her friend, angling her body to shield their interaction as best she could from the boy sitting beside her, “Why on earth would you ask that?”

Veronica looked at Betty and rolled her eyes, “Well you’re clearly in love, silly.”

Betty’s lips parted in silent protest, and she quickly grabbed Veronica by the hand and fled the couch, dragging the two of them toward the empty kitchen. “Veronica, what are you talking about?”

“You know, you have such gorgeous hair!” Veronica ignored Betty’s question, reaching out and pulling at Betty’s ponytail, “You need to wear it down more Betty.”

“Veronica. Focus. What on earth would you ask me that?”

Veronica crossed her arms across her chest, attempting to arch a drunk eyebrow in challenge, “I’m not talking until you put your hair down.”

Betty sighed, reaching up and removing the elastic from her hair. She shook her head a bit to let the strands fall more evenly before looking at Veronica expectantly. “Well?”

Veronica smiled and looked at her with cloudy eyes, “Well what? Don’t you _like_ Jughead?”

“I don’t – that’s not -” Betty grappled for words, her frustration rising as she found she couldn’t produce an answer. She threw her hands up in the air, “You can’t just ask questions like that V! Especially not with Jughead right next to me!”

Veronica huffed crossing her own arms across her chest, “I didn’t set this whole thing up for to just _not_ have anything happen!”

The second the words left her mouth, Veronica gasped and clamped a palm over her mouth. “Oops,” she giggled, shoulders rising in childish laughter, “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“You mean… that’s why you invited Jughead here?” Betty asked, “You were trying to set us up?”

“Well you won’t stop talking about him! And he’s so cute! I mean, aren’t you just dying to know what’s under that beanie?”

Betty sighed, grabbing her drunken friend by the shoulders, “Veronica. Jughead and I are _just_ friends. That’s all.”

“Funny. Last time you said that you were talking about Archie.”

Veronica’s sing-song teasing quickly died, regret etching itself across her face as Betty pulled her arms back down to her sides.

“B, I – I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Betty nodded halfheartedly, “Let’s just go back to the living room, okay?”

Betty turned and quickly left the kitchen, returning to her spot on the couch and avoiding eye contact with Jughead. He clearly noticed the shift in her mood, leaning nearer to be heard over the television (which had gown inexplicably louder in the past couple minutes).

“Hey, everything okay?”

Betty did her best to smile, “Yeah, she’s just drunk. Can’t really take anything she says too seriously, ya know?”

He nodded, a far-off look glassing over his eyes, “Yeah,” He whispered, more to himself than to Betty.

He cleared his throat, whatever thought had been crossing his mind quickly vanishing, “Well, you didn’t miss much. Unless you count watching Barney Simpson trying to party with Korean Elvis.” He gestured toward the screen and then the rest of the room, “I think our partiers are starting to tucker out.”

Betty looked around, finding a few of Kevin’s friends to have fallen asleep while others had started to talk in hushed tones or scroll through social media on their phones.

“Thank goodness.” Betty laughed, “I’m not sure I could take much more tonight.”

She turned toward him, surprised to find Jughead assessing her with an unfamiliar look on his face.

“What?” She asked, nervously releasing a breathy laugh as she tried not to think about her sudden increase in heart rate.

“Nothing,” He smiled, “You took your hair down, is all.”

Betty reached up and self-consciously pulled at her ends, “Yeah, Veronica insisted.”

“I like it.” He murmured, his eyes lingering on hers. Before she could stop herself, Betty felt her teeth tug at her bottom lip, a distinct heat rising up her neck.

“Thank you.” She said softly, averting her eyes back to the television.

She ran her fingers through her hair, this time with a bit more confidence, as she felt Jughead’s weight settle further into the cushion beside her.

Maybe Ted Moseby was wrong, Betty thought. Maybe some good things can happen after 2 am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I really really hope you liked it. Just a heads up, there will very likely not be an update next week (casually crying) because it's a performance week and therefore I'm in rehearsals almost 24/7. I hope this chapter was enough to keep you satisfied for a minor hiatus - I'll be back as soon as I can I promise!
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to leave a comment and/or come find me over on tumblr!


	11. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I really doing Thanksgiving in the middle of Christmas season? Yes, yes I am. Mostly because I failed at keeping my original posting schedule but hey - school is crazy, ya know?
> 
> Once again, shout-out to my amazing beta @riverdalelovee for keeping my characterization on track

The next day Jughead rolled out of bed around noon, releasing a groan before tossing his pillow across the room. Bullseye. He hit Archie right in the face, his roommate quickly bolting upright and releasing a surprised bark.

“Jug! Dude what the hell?”

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty, we have to finish packing if we’re ever gonna stay on schedule.”

Archie ignored him, rolling back over and pulling Jughead’s pillow down over his head to block out the sun that had started streaming through the window.

“Hey,” Jughead started, getting up to flick on the overhead light, “You’re the one who decided to go out and party the night before you head home for Thanksgiving. Don’t blame me for your poor planning.”

“You were out late too.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t drinking. And I’m a natural night owl.”

Jughead opened up his closet, rummaging through the mountain of flannels in an attempt to find something clean to pack, “Hey, just how nice of a Thanksgiving does your family have anyway?” He tried to maintain a casual tone. He recognized that Archie was far too distracted by his pounding hangover to pick up on any nuances of his voice, but he was still afraid he’d let on just how nervous he was about this trip.

Although initially excited at the prospect of a true family holiday, Jughead found that the closer they came to reality, the more nervous he became. Jughead had never been one for great first impressions, and he didn’t know anything about a normal Thanksgiving. He knew Archie’s parents were divorced, so he wasn’t expecting the Brady Bunch, but he still had the feeling the whole affair would be much more traditional than Jughead was used to experiencing. What if he wore the wrong thing? Or said the wrong thing? The latter was much more likely – Jughead’s sarcastic attitude had certainly woven him into poor situations before.

“It’s pretty casual.” Archie muttered, swinging his legs off the bed and scrubbing his face with his hands, “I wouldn’t stress it.”

Jughead nodded, grabbing a couple of clean t-shirts and throwing them in his duffel, and then reaching deeper into his closet for a blue button down just in case. They were only going to be in Riverdale for three days, but Jughead was surprised to find himself over-packing. He had always been a minimalist, a side effect of growing up with so little, but there was no way he was going to be the one to ruin the Andrews’ Thanksgiving.

“Seriously Arch,” Jughead pushed, glancing over to find him still curled in bed, “We have to be on the road by three if we want to make it to your house in time for dinner.” Archie groaned but obliged, climbing down from his loft and lazily grabbing his suitcase.

“I can’t believe _you’re_ the one worried about getting home on time. My dad seriously will not care if we’re late – in fact he probably expects it.” He chuckled, taking a sniff of a pair of jeans before throwing it in his suitcase.

“It’s not your dad I’m afraid of – it’s Betty. I’m pretty sure she’ll murder both of us if we aren’t ready on time.”

“Betty. Right.” Archie’s face dawned with recognition, as if he had just remembered the entire reason Jughead was coming home with him in the first place. “Probably shouldn’t give her any more reasons to be mad at me, huh?”

Jughead sighed, remembering the conversation he’d had with Betty the night before, “Maybe you should just talk to her. It could go a long way.”

“Maybe,” Archie pondered, seeming to genuinely consider Jughead’s suggestion. They didn’t say anything else, moving about the room in silence as they both packed up their things.

They paused for lunch within the half hour – Jughead wasn’t going to be any kind of productive on an empty stomach – heading to the nearest dining court and grabbing as much of the buffet style food as they could manage.

“Hey,” Archie asked him in between bites of pizza, “what exactly were you doing out so late last night? I never actually saw you at the party.”

Jughead looked up in surprise, taking a moment to swallow his burger before responding, “Oh, uh, I actually ended up hanging out at the pregame apartment. With Betty.” He quickly shoved a handful of fries in his mouth, averting his eyes from whatever reaction Archie was sure to have.

“You two just hung out all night?” Archie asked, a clear note of curiosity in his voice.

Jughead shrugged, doing his best to remain nonchalant, “Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal. We just watched some reruns.” _And talked about you._

Archie nodded, “Well that’s cool. Not as fun as a party, but to each his own I guess.”

_I’d beg to differ_ , Jughead thought, unable to stop himself from remembering the way Betty felt pressed against his side, her head rested gently on his shoulder. Pride swelled in his chest as he thought about the way she had leaned so easily into his touch, as if he were the kind of place she could feel safe and comforted. As if she trusted him. He’d fallen asleep thinking about that feeling, the memory of her sleepy green eyes smiling back at him at the end of the night dancing just behind his eyelids.

A large crash shook Jughead out of his stupor, the dining court growing hushed as everyone turned to stare at a boy who had spilled his meal tray all over his chest.

“Freshman.” Archie muttered beneath his breath.

“Dude,” Jughead snorted, “ _We’re_ freshman.”

“Maybe,” Archie shrugged, “But we don’t _seem_ like freshman.”

Jughead just grinned, shaking his head before digging back into his meal.

* * *

Before he knew it, they were packing up the car and heading over to pick up Betty. Archie stalled in front of her dorm, sending her a quick text to let her know they were outside. Almost immediately, Betty came tumbling out the front door, suitcase in hand.

She looked… tense, to say the least. Her hair was pulled back into an impossibly tight ponytail, a vast contrast to the soft way it had framed her face the night before. And she was dressed differently, somehow. She was still wearing her typical cardigan and flats, but every piece was spotless, lacking a single wrinkle or strand out of place. It was unnerving.

She pulled open the trunk, tossing her bag inside with a fervor, “Arch, you’re fifteen minutes late. You know my mom’s going to kill me if I’m late for dinner.” She slammed the trunk closed, moving around to the passenger side and pulling it open, stopping in her tracks when she registered Jughead already seated there. “Oh – hi Jughead.”

“Hi Betty.” Jughead shifted awkwardly. “I, uh, I can move to the back.”

“No, that’s okay!” Betty said a bit too quickly, “I’ll just sit in the back.”

She shut the door quickly, climbing into the backseat and settling into the middle so that she could see both Archie and Jughead. “So are we dropping you off somewhere?”

Jughead cleared his throat, “No, uh, I’m spending the weekend with the Andrews.”

“Oh!” Betty exclaimed, understanding dawning over her face, “You’re coming to Riverdale. Okay.”

He tried not to be too offended by her tone, knowing she had to be surprised by his unexpected presence. Clearly, Archie had failed to give her a heads up – probably a side effect of the two of them having such limited communication these days. He had intended to mention it the night before, but somewhere between late night reruns and drunken friends the message had gotten lost.

“It was pretty last minute.” Archie offered as he put the car back in drive.

“So, are you excited for break?” Jughead asked, doing his best to get small talk going.

“I guess.” Betty responded, a certain unease to her tone. Jughead glanced back, taking note of the thin line her lips had formed and knowing he wasn’t going to hear much more on the subject. “Why aren’t you going home for Thanksgiving?”

Now it was Jughead’s turn to remain tight-lipped. “My family doesn’t really do Thanksgiving.” He answered, hoping his one-line answer would prove sufficient.

An unease settled over the car, the trio travelling in silence as Archie drove off campus. He kept glancing over at Jughead, sending less-than-subtle cues for Jughead to start up the conversation, but Jughead was at a loss. He’d never really had a hard time talking to Betty, but he’d also never had to _try_ to talk to Betty. This was going to be much harder than he had anticipated.

Jughead cleared his throat, desperate to do something to dull the silence, “Do you guys mind if I turn on some music?”

“That’s a great idea!” Archie agreed a bit too eagerly. He quickly reached over and turned on the radio, a pop song blaring through the speakers and causing Jughead to wince at the volume. Archie scrambled to turn down the volume, turning the music to an almost imperceptible volume to compensate for the blast of noise, “Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, “I may have gotten a bit carried away last time I was in the car.”

“How about I just play some of my music, huh?” Jughead reached for the aux cord, plugging his phone in and scrolling through his playlists looking for the right selection. He quickly recognized that some of his darker selections would do nothing to help the atmosphere, skipping over the majority of his playlists before settling on what he deemed to be a neutral genre.

A mixture of electro-pop and pop rock music started playing through the speakers, the three of them settling into their seats and doing their best to pretend they weren’t just using the music to cover the silence.

The cityscape slowly gave way to acres and acres of nothingness, Jughead fiddling anxiously with his phone and growing bored of the view when Betty finally broke the silence.

“Is this Two Door Cinema Club?”

It took Jughead a moment to even recognize that she was talking to him, his mind so glazed over. When she prompted again with a small poke to the shoulder, he finally shook his head and turned to look at her. “Sorry, what?”

“The song – is it by Two Door Cinema Club?”

Jughead glanced down at his phone, having completely lost track of the playlist, and confirmed that Betty was correct, “It appears that it is.”

Betty smiled, clearly satisfied by her accurate guess, “Thought so.” She returned to her phone, seemingly done with the conversation, but the following silence only heightened Jughead’s awareness of the awkwardness in the car.

“Do you like them?” He asked, aware that he was straining a bit to get the conversation going.

“Yeah.” Betty replied, “I mean, I’ve heard some of their songs before and liked them. Enough to recognize their style. But I’m more a fan of straight pop than alternative.”

“What, so Taylor Swift is more your speed?”

Betty smirked, “It’s music for the masses for a reason.”

“Yeah, so the sheeple can collectively allow their brains to turn to mush.”

Betty rolled her eyes, “You’re allowed to not like Taylor Swift, but just because it isn’t your taste doesn’t make it bad music. Not everything that’s popular is automatically low quality. If I recall correctly, you seem to be a fairly large enjoyer of Friends. If that’s not entertainment for the masses I don’t know what is.”

Jughead laughed, “Touché. As long as you can admit that simply because something is popular doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“Obviously. I saw that cheesy quote on a poster in every single homeroom throughout high school too.”

“Ah high school,” Jughead placed a palm dramatically on his heart, making a show of lamenting a time past, “The days of adolescent torture and pubescent clichés. Oh, how we’ve grown since then.”

“You say that as if we weren’t in high school less than six months ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jughead glanced between Betty and Archie, “I think quite a bit has already changed since high school.”

The car quieted for a minute, the reality of Jughead’s statement settling over them. “Of course,” He kept talking, “If you ask Archie here he’d probably tell you we’re even too good for college now.”

“Hey man, it was _one_ comment!” Archie defended, “When are you gonna let it go?”

“I don’t know, considering it only happened _today_ I like to think it’s got a little more life to it.”

Betty laughed at Jughead’s smugness, quickly grabbing his phone from the center console and swiping it open.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jughead asked, reaching for the device only to have Betty giggle and pull it further out of reach.

“Sorry Jug, it’s my turn to control the music. If you wanted to prevent this you should have put a password on your phone.”

Jughead groaned as Taylor Swift poured suddenly through the speaker, sending Betty as strong a glare as he could manage. She merely smiled sweetly back at him, loudly singing along to further mock him. Archie joined in, cranking the volume even louder. Jughead tried to maintain his composure, but he couldn’t help letting a smile slip when he recognized the lightened atmosphere that had taken over the car.

An hour and forty-five minutes later (only fifteen of which were dedicated to Taylor Swift, thank _god_ ), they pulled past a wooden town sign: “Riverdale, The Town with Pep!”, plastered across it. Jughead watched as the small town came into view, taking in its old-fashioned feel with obvious curiosity. The mood of the car subdued significantly as they approached their final destination, a strange anticipation washing over the three of them.

Archie turned into a quaint neighborhood, passing picturesque house after picturesque house, until he finally pulled into the driveway of a very standard suburban home. The three of them climbed out of the car, Jughead running around to the trunk and pulling out the suitcases. Betty accepted her luggage with a soft smile, wishing the two of them a curt goodbye before crossing the lawn and approaching the house next door.

“Wait, Betty is your neighbor?” Jughead asked, his eyes trained on Betty as she rolled her suitcase up the sidewalk and paused before the front door. He watched her take a visible breath, straightening her spine and giving her ponytail one final tug before reaching for the handle and disappearing behind the bright red door.

Archie came around to the back of the car, pulling out his laundry and giving a cursory glance toward the house, “Yeah. Have been our entire lives. C’mon, let’s head inside.”

Jughead nodded, unsure what to do with this newfound information. After a moment longer than was probably normal, he pulled his eyes from the little white house and followed Archie up toward his own red door.

“Dad, we’re home!” Archie called out into the entryway.

A middle-aged man appeared from the corner, his arms already outstretched and prepared to pull Archie into a hug. “Welcome home kid!” He exclaimed, giving Archie a hearty pat on the back before turning to Jughead.

“You must be the famous roommate!” He smiled, throwing his arms around Jughead and pulling away before he could react, “Archie has told me lots about you. Happy to have you joining us this year.”

Jughead smiled awkwardly, finding himself overwhelmed in the same way he had been meeting Archie for the first time. “Thanks for taking me in Mr. Andrews.” He responded, trying to maintain as friendly an air as he could.

“Arch, why don’t you show Jughead here where you’ll be sleeping, and then we’ll get going on dinner. I’m sure you boys must be starving.”

Archie nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and travelling up the stairs. Jughead followed, something he got the feeling he’d be doing a lot of during this trip. Archie led him into what had to be Archie’s old bedroom, a single twin in the corner and an air mattress already covered in sheets next to it.

Aside from the cleanliness that was a clear result of no one having slept in it for months, the room was textbook Archie. The walls were lined with trophies, photos, posters and music records of all genres. It was the perfect mixture of teenage athlete and starving musician.

Doing his best to casually observe, Jughead did a lap around the room, his eyes landing on a collection of photos pinned to a corkboard. Archie and Betty at a school dance, Archie and Betty in Christmas sweaters, Archie and Betty laughing at something unseen on the couch.

“You sure do have a lot of photos of you and Betty.” The statement was meant to sound casual, like a mild observation, but Jughead couldn’t help but notice how accusatory it sounded.

Archie lifted his head from whatever he had been doing by his bed, looking over to the corkboard and frowning. “Uh, yeah.” His ran his hand through his hair, “There are other pictures – me with the guys on the football team, performances, stuff like that. They just, uh, got packed up before I left for school.”

Jughead nodded, his eyes wandering out the window and toward the pale pink curtains drawn across the window directly across from them.

“It’s Betty’s.” Archie said, causing Jughead to tear his eyes away and frown in confusion, “The room. It’s Betty’s.” He clarified, “Although the blinds have never really been shut before…” It was Archie’s turn to frown, his mood noticeably shifting as he registered the weight of such an observation.

“Maybe her mom just had it shut. You know, when Betty went away to school.” Jughead offered.

“Yeah, maybe.” Archie nodded, clearly unconvinced. He stared out the window for another beat before clearing his throat, transforming back into his signature sunny disposition, “Want to head downstairs for some food? Pretty sure my dad ordered pizza.”

“You come home for college just to eat more takeout?” Jughead asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Welcome to the bachelor pad, Jug.”

* * *

The next day and a half passed by relatively uneventfully, Jughead and Archie spending most of their time sleeping in and playing video games. While Archie’s dad was extremely hospitable, it quickly became clear that he possessed zero culinary skills. He didn’t ask because he didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but Jughead wondered with every frozen meal just how Mr. Andrews planned on pulling off a Thanksgiving dinner.

He received his answer in the form of Archie trudging up to their shared room late on Thursday afternoon, instructing him to put on something nice.

“What? Why? No offense Arch, but I don’t get the impression a meal in this household requires a dress code.”

“We’re headed over to Betty’s for dinner. It’s a tradition, we’ve done it every year since we were kids.”

Jughead looked at Archie like he was insane. He was going to Betty’s house? For Thanksgiving dinner? What kind of twilight zone had he stepped into?

“You can’t be serious.”

“Trust me dude, I’m not really looking forward to it much this year either.”

Jughead swallowed, fully aware that he and Archie were apprehensive for astonishingly different reasons.

He watched as Archie pulled a button down from his closet before digging through his duffel bag and thanking whatever god there was he had the foresight to pack one of his own. He stood in front of Archie’s mirror, debating whether or not to leave his beanie at home. It definitely stood out a bit against the more formal attire, but when he reached up to pull it off his head he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Ultimately, he simply tugged it on tighter, it’s weight offering a bit of comfort. He must have looked more nervous than he meant to, because Archie gave him a small punch on the arm and smiled at him reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. The Coopers are nice. And whatever Betty and I have to sort out... well, we survived the car ride already, right? Wait until you try Mrs. Cooper’s apple pie. It’s perfect.”

Fifteen minutes later Jughead was standing on the Cooper’s doorstep, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as Mr. Jones knocked on the door.

It took only a moment for the door to swing open, and Jughead caught bits of blonde from behind Archie’s head.

“Fred! Archie! Come on in!” A voice called out, prompting the group inside. Archie shifted into the house and Jughead registered a middle-aged woman who bore a striking resemblance to Betty. Her mother, no doubt.

“Well!” She exclaimed, eyes scanning his outfit in a way that made Jughead instantly regret not ironing his shirt, “You must be Archie’s roommate. Forsythe, correct?”

Jughead shifted a bit, “Uh, I actually prefer to go by Jughead, ma’am.”

He may have been imagining it, but Jughead could have sworn he saw a flicker of anger cross her face. Almost as if she had been personally offended by the correction. Whether or not it actually occurred was impossible to tell though, as her sugary smile was back in place within the blink of an eye. “I’d prefer to call you Forsythe.” She said, her tone dripping with authority, “Why don’t you come in. Supper will be ready soon.”

“Uh, thank you.” Jughead said, shuffling awkwardly past her and into the foyer. “You have a lovely home,” he observed, taking in the staircase lined with school portraits of Betty, “Very classic.”

Mrs. Cooper’s mouth transformed into what Jughead assumed was meant to be a smile, though it was clear there was no joy in it, “Yes well, in this household we believe in first impressions,” her eyes travelled to his beanie, “Good presentation is always of utmost importance.”

She stepped away from him, leaving no chance for response as she disappeared into the kitchen. Jughead looked to Archie for guidance, but he merely shrugged and gestured for the two of them to move further into the living room.

It didn’t take long for Jughead to end up alone, Betty’s mother having recruited both Archie and Mr. Andrews for turkey carving duties. He had initially offered to assist, but Mrs. Cooper took one withering glance at Jughead and insisted he wait where he was.

Pacing back and forth, Jughead looked around and observing the perfect pastel of the room. He felt as though he had entered a housing catalogue or something, everything was so perfectly placed and beautifully matched.

“What are you doing in here?”

Jughead turned at the sound of her voice, his instinctive smile fading when he caught sight of her.

Betty looked… different. She was still as impeccably put together as she had been on the ride home, but now her eyes lacked that energetic sparkle they usually carried. Despite every detail of her appearance being cared to, something about her seemed duller, subdued. He supposed to an outsider she looked perfect, but to Jughead she just looked strained.

“Your mom told me to just wait in here.” He explained, trying to make light of the situation, “She said it was because guests shouldn’t do work, but I suspect she just doesn’t want me in the kitchen. She didn’t seem to like me very much.” He chuckled, disappointed to find that Betty’s subsequent smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“She’s like that.” She sighed, her eyes gazing off toward the portrait hanging above the fireplace. Jughead followed her gaze, analyzing the picture of Betty and her parents. Funny, Jughead could have sworn Betty said she had a sister, but she wasn’t included in the portrait. Come to think of it, Jughead hadn’t seen a single photo of another sibling anywhere.

He looked at Betty, her focus still trained on the portrait as she lost herself in something Jughead couldn’t see. Suddenly feeling as though he was witnessing a moment intended to be private, he cleared his throat and mumbled the first thing that came to mind.

“I uh, I didn’t know when I accepted Archie’s invitation to come to Riverdale for the holiday that I’d end up at your house. Sorry.”

Betty looked at him, shaking her head in confusion, “Sorry for what?”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m imposing.”

“It’s okay.” Betty said quietly, “It’s actually kind of nice to have you here. I’ll warn you though, my family is a little… intense.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Jughead said, placing a gentle hand on Betty’s arm.

Her lips parted, an audible intake of air that made Jughead think she was going to say something, when her mother’s voice cut through the air, announcing it was time to gather in the kitchen.

Jughead felt his heart drop a bit as Betty’s shoulders stiffened, whatever had laced the air a moment before completely vanished.

“Come on,” Betty made a visible show of placing on her smile, “It’s time for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for coming back and continuing to read! I definitely plan on having the next update out faster than this last one - I think you're going to like it! As always, comments are loved, and you're welcome to come find me on tumblr!


	12. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Here's a chapter centered around Thanksgiving.
> 
> As always, thank you to my wonderful beta @riverdalelovee over on tumblr

Betty stepped up to the dining room table, dutifully taking her place beside her mother. She was just about to encourage Jughead to take the place next to hers when her mother piped up.

“Archie, darling, why don’t you come sit next to Elizabeth?”

She said it as a suggestion, but Betty was smart enough to recognize it as an order. Archie, after years of experience, followed her mother’s prompting without comment, casting a cursory glance in Betty’s direction before pulling out a chair and seating himself beside her.

“Hi,” he muttered, directly acknowledging her for the first time since he’d entered the house, “uh, Happy Thanksgiving.”

Betty nodded slightly, an unspoken agreement of cordialness passing between them, “Happy Thanksgiving Archie.”

She could feel Jughead’s eyes scanning her for any sign of concern as he took the place beside Archie. She sent him a small smile hoping to reassure him that it was okay, that Archie was the least of her worries.

The moment she’d walked through the door Tuesday night, Betty had been on the offensive. Despite her best efforts to look presentable, her mother instantly criticized her appearance (“Oh Elizabeth, we’ll have to buy you some new sweaters while you’re home. This one is looking as though it shrunk on you!”) and it all went downhill from there. It was an endless stream of invasive questions (“I took the liberty of emailing your professor, were you aware of the extra credit opportunities offered?”) and backhanded compliments (“Elizabeth darling, you would just be so pretty if you smiled a bit more”). Every passing minute set Betty further on edge, her nerves further worn down with each of her mother’s critical glares. Her father had, as always, remained a bystander to the whole affair, keeping silent during the day and sneaking Betty late night treats as his own sort of apology.

Betty couldn’t decide if being away at school had made her mother harsher upon her return, or if she only seemed more difficult because Betty had become accustomed to life out from under her thumb. Suspecting it was a mixture of both, Betty chose not to dwell on it, concluding no amount of analysis would make her mother any more tolerable.

“Hal,” Alice spoke, “would you do the honors?” She gestured toward the already carved turkey at the center of the table. Her father nodded, standing to grab the platter.

“Dinner,” he announced, portioning a healthy heaping of turkey onto his plate, “is served.”

The table promptly sprang to life – or, as lively as anything could truly be beneath Alice Cooper’s roof. Fred and Hal dove into discussion of the football game her father had been barred from watching (“This is a holiday for _family_ Hal, not wasting away before a television set”), while Archie and Jughead stuffed their faces without saying much. Betty picked at her food, careful to take small bites.

“So, Forsythe,” Alice began, the beanie-clad boy startling at her voice, “Let’s hear a bit about you. What are you studying at school?”

Jughead swallowed, having chosen a rather inopportune time to take a large mouthful of mashed potatoes, before answering, “Uh, creative writing.”

Betty watched as her mother blinked once, twice before answering, “Writing?” She quirked a brow, mild interest seeping through, “My husband and I run the local newspaper, you know. We had hoped Elizabeth would follow in our footsteps, but she insisted on a business degree.” She placed her hand on Betty’s forearm, “Of course, it’s never too late.”

“Mom, we’ve talked about this.” Betty spoke, trying hard to swallow the whine in her tone, “I’m still figuring it out.”

“Yes, well,” Alice patted Betty’s arm, a reassuring gesture completely contradicted by the condescension leaking from her lips, “You’ll come to your senses soon enough. Are you interested in journalism, Forsythe?”

“Jughead.” Betty mumbled.

“What was that?”

Betty tensed, reluctantly meeting her mother’s eyes as she choked out her defense, “His name is Jughead.”

“Nonsense.” Alice declared, “His God-given name is Forsythe, that’s what I’ll call him. You have no problem with that, correct?” She hardly gave Jughead enough time to nod before proclaiming the discussion over and bringing the conversation back to its original point, “So, Forsythe, journalism?”

Jughead cleared his throat, sitting a bit straighter in his chair, “I’m more interested in writing novels. Mostly nonfiction though.”

“Yeah,” Archie piped up, “Jughead is super talented. He won full scholarship to school based on an essay he wrote about his hometown.”

“Is that true?” Betty asked, smiling past Archie to Jughead, “You never told me.”

Jughead smiled back at her, his cheeks bashfully tinging pink at her praise, “It didn’t seem important.”

“Well Forsythe, that’s very impressive.” Alice intervened, “And important. You should never shy away from discussing your accomplishments. Of course, it seems to me you should be careful not to waste such an opportunity on novel writing.”

“Mom -” Betty spoke out in surprise, her voice quickly silenced by the slight raise of her mother’s hand.

“I’m only making the point that it’s important to acknowledge the financial realities of such an unstable career choice. Besides,” Her mother sent her a signature look of disapproval, “seeing as my only daughter can’t choose a stable plan for her life I may as well encourage someone else to.”

Betty gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into fists beneath the table, “I’m not your only daughter.”

“Oh, darling, let’s not get into this now.” Alice dismissed her, forking a few green beans in an obvious attempt to shut down the conversation.

“I’m just saying -”

“Elizabeth,” Alice cut her off, all sense of niceties vanished, “I said not now.”

“You can’t erase Polly!” Betty slapped her palms on the table, causing the cutlery on her plate to cling together, “You can take her picture out of every frame, you can ban her from every family holiday, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that she exists. That she is happy, and married. That she -” she choked on her own voice, “that she has two children – _my_ niece and nephew that I -”

Her vision was blurred and hot, distorting the look of fury on her mother’s face. The entire table was silent, everyone afraid to disturb the stillness in fear of what came next. Betty could feel it, the quiet, crowding around her heart from all sides and beginning to squeeze.

“Excuse me.” Betty whispered, pushing back her chair and walking hurriedly out of the room. A buzzing in her ears she hadn’t noticed before grew louder with every step, drowning her thoughts in nothingness as she stumbled further from the group.

She didn't have a plan as she rushed into the kitchen, instantly regretting the choice of location as she cornered herself in that portion of the house. A feeling of entrapment washed over her, her hands reaching out to grip the counter as her breathing rate intensified.

The harsh pull of her ponytail pricked through her muddled mind, her hands reacting on their own accord and hastily tearing the elastic from her hair. She supposed the release of tension should have made her free, but as hair fell across her face Betty only felt less in control.

Footsteps pounded down the hall, Betty startling at the noise. Knowing she was in no state to face her mother, she spun around looking for an escape. Before she could think, she ducked into the walk-in pantry and shut the door behind her.

She hadn’t anticipated the darkness, the sudden lack of light only serving to heighten her panic. Her breathing instantly shallowed, every intake of air seeming to suffocate her even more. Eyes wide with fear, Betty backed into the corner and curled her knees into her chest as she awaited the inevitable.

When an unexpected voice called her name, a sob rose in her chest, strangled and cracking and full of relief.

A cry fell from her lips, something resembling his name, as light flooded the pantry and his shadow passed over her shrunken form.

Jughead was quick to react, crouching down in front of her without touching her, his eyes raking over hers. For the briefest of moments, she saw them reflect her own panic, before quickly shifting into something gentler, calmer.

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s all okay. Breathe with me, in… out.. in…out…”

He continued like that, his hand rising and falling with his chest as she tried to follow. His voice was low and soft, gliding around the sharp edges of her mind and filling in the jagged gaps. Every few repetitions or so he’d interrupt himself to offer some reassurance (“I’m right here Betty. You’re safe. Nothing is wrong.”) his eyes never leaving her face all the while.

She watched his hand closely, the rise of her chest ragged as she tried to follow his lead. Slowly but surely, her breathing deepened, evening out as her mind began to clear. The heightened adrenaline gave way to exhaustion as the attack subsided and reality crept back in.

Betty raised her eyes to find Jughead carefully examining her, a few residual tears falling as she blinked him into focus. The intensity of his gaze leaving her self-aware, she ducked her head back down and wiped at her face, certain she must look horrid.

She was surprised when Jughead reached out, his fingers ghosting against her cheek as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay,” he said, his legs falling on either side of her as he moved to sit, “It’s all over.”

Somewhere from the depths of her anxiety, an inexplicable laugh made its way to the surface. It came out breathy and short and full of irony, Betty rolling her head forward and resting it on Jughead’s chest.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that. To see any of this.”

His arms came up around her, brushing across her back and nudging her further into his body. “Hey,” he breathed softly, his breath warm against her ear, “None of this is your fault.”

“I guess I owe you an explanation," Betty started, lifting her head so they were face to face.

“What are you talking about?” Jughead smirked, “You mean crying in a pantry isn’t a part of the traditional family Thanksgiving?”

A genuine smile bloomed across Betty’s lips, her hands reaching up to scrub her face as a mixture of a groan and a laugh rumbled in her chest, “Nope. Pretty sure it’s just me.” She settled her hands down on his arms, which were still wrapped around the small of her back. A heavy silence settled over the pair, Betty tracing circles into his shirt with her index finger as she searched for the right words.

“They’re almost three now. My niece and nephew.”

She could feel Jughead’s eyes trained on her as she spoke, but Betty kept her gaze on her fingers, focusing on how their movement wrinkled the fabric, “I haven’t seen them – or my sister – in almost two years. When my sister got pregnant, she eloped with her boyfriend. My mom, she was so angry. She told Polly she could either come home and give the twins up for adoption, or she could stay away forever. Polly was always pretty strong headed, so…”

Jughead gave her hip a little squeeze when she trailed off, the pressure giving her the courage to meet his eyes.

“Betty, that’s… I’m really sorry.” His gaze was steady, causing Betty’s heart to clench from the sincerity she could feel radiating off him. “Do you… I mean does this… happen a lot?”

She shook her head, “I was on medication in high school, but I stopped taking them when I came to school. I didn’t need them. My mom she… makes me crazy. Or brings out the crazy that’s been in me all along, I guess.”

“No,” Jughead said, his hand coming up to cup her jaw, “You are not crazy.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the urgency of his touch, her voice involuntarily reduced to a whisper, “You don’t know that.”

“Yes,” Jughead insisted, his voice rising with conviction, “I do. Because I know you, Betty. You’re not crazy. You’re not who your mother says you should be. You are your own person, a combination of all the things you’ve survived and all the things you’re preparing to face.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek, his voiced laced with something sweeter as his eyes followed the motion, “You’re incredible.”

A silent breath stole away the air in Betty’s lungs, the air stilling as Jughead’s eyes locked with hers. Pushing aside any hesitation, Betty surged forward, surprised to find her mind completely unhindered for the first time in days.

It was a soft kiss, his lips chapped and unexpecting. His hand lifted a bit off her jaw in surprise, only finding ground on the back of her neck as she began to pull away.

Her top lip tugged against his bottom one before fulling setting it free, Betty quick to replace the contact by resting her forehead against his. Her breath was hot against his chin as she whispered to him, realizing only after the words were spoken how redundant they had become.

“Thank you.”

She felt his face crinkle into a smile beneath hers, her hand rising from his arm to palm his chest as he leaned back in and pressed his lips against hers in his own unspoken response. She was mildly aware of his own heartbeat beneath her hand, beating against his rib cage at a heightened pace that could only be rivaled by her own.

“Betty? Jughead?”

Betty jerked back when Archie’s voice entered the kitchen, quickly pulling herself to her feet and pressing down at the wrinkles in her cardigan. The sanctity of the moment vanished as she stepped out of the pantry, Jughead following close behind.

“Hey…” Archie turned around when he heard them, confusion crossing over his face, “Were you two in the pantry?”

“Uh,” Betty cleared his throat, looking to Jughead for help.

“We were hiding from Mrs. Cooper.” Jughead offered, a smile crossing playfully over his lips as he stepped beside Betty and placed a gentle hand on the small of her back.

She smiled up at him, turning back to Archie with a newfound sense of humor, “Yeah, sometimes you just have to escape the crazy.”

“Uh, okay.” Archie frowned, his eyes travelling between the two in confusion, “Well, you can stop hiding. Your mom has officially declared Thanksgiving dinner over. Jughead we’ve got to go.”

“Right, well,” Jughead glanced at Betty, “I guess that’s my cue.”

He stepped away from her, Betty reluctantly adjusting to the cool air that replaced his touch.

Archie waved an awkward goodbye from where he was standing before escorting Jughead out of the kitchen. Managing a single glance backward, Jughead mouthed a silent goodbye before disappearing from view.

Settling into the now empty space around her, Betty closed the pantry door and listened to the subdued goodbyes trailing in from the foyer. She heard the front door shut, her mother’s voice turning cold as it called for her. Closing her eyes to allow one last second of calm, Betty straightened her spine and pulled her hair back up into its ponytail, readying herself for whatever came next.


	13. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I start every chapter with a long apology about how long it took to get an update out, so I'm not going to do that (but I am *really* sorry).
> 
> Something to be noted about this chapter: It is from Betty's POV. This breaks the back and forth pattern I have so successfully committed to for the past twelve chapters, but I realized I hadn't truly finished the Thanksgiving visit, so consider this an addition to the previous chapter. The next update will return to the standard trade-off POV pattern.

She had to have been staring at the ceiling for almost thirty minutes now.

Not that Betty had much better to do with her time. After her outburst at Thanksgiving dinner, she had been placed under effective house arrest. It occurred to Betty that she was an adult, that her mother really shouldn’t be able to control her the way she did, but then it also occurred to her that her parents were paying her tuition and therefore she was effectively stuck.

She also didn’t have a car, so physically escaping seemed implausible.

Instead, Betty settled into a state of heavy mental escapism. It was eerie, really, just how good she had gotten at going through the motions while maintaining the façade of perfection. She sat with primly crossed hands and glassy eyes as her mother scolded her for her behavior (“And in front of _guests?!_ I swear Elizabeth, I don’t know what has gotten into you…”), nodding and apologizing at all the correct intervals. The whole thing mimicked a kind of musical composition, Betty keeping her soothing violin in perfect time with her mother’s overbearing brass. When she was on rhythm and in tune, the conversation passed quickly. But if she missed an entrance or her apologies feel flat they would start the piece over again, going round and round until her mother heard her own form of perfect harmony. Eventually they would reach a finale of some sort, the music would fade into silence, and Betty would retreat into the metaphorical wings.

It was fake, all of it. She could practically _feel_ it’s falsehood, pressing in on all sides of her and leaving her exhausted. It was an unfortunately jarring realization, that every ounce of her life in this house had been carefully crafted, every single detail refined to her mother’s impossible standards. None of it belonged to her. Looking back on it all, Betty wasn’t sure she had made a single decision on her own when she lived under this roof.

Until two nights ago.

Kissing Jughead, that was a decision that had been all hers.

She hadn’t been able to talk to him since Archie had found them in the kitchen pantry. Her mother had confiscated her phone, insisting that if Betty “wasn’t responsible enough to behave in person there was no way she could be trusted to behave online.” It was frustrating, to say the least. She wanted to see him, to talk to him. But as long as her mother remained on watch, Betty would remain silenced. Thankfully, her stay was soon coming to a close.

Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant she would pack all her belongings back into Archie’s car and ride away from it all, back to her standardized class schedule and blissful freedom. Back to Veronica and Kevin and Cheryl. Back to Jughead.

She could hear her mother’s voice calling out to her from the bottom of the stairway, persistent as always yet refusing to move from its position. Betty groaned, pulling herself off her mattress with considerable effort and travelling to the top of the stairs.

“Yes?” she asked, her plastic smile already in place.

“Come down the stairs, won’t you? It’s rude to make me talk to you from another level.”

Her smile cracked a bit around the edges. But only a bit.

Betty made it down the steps only to follow her mother even further away from her room and into the kitchen, instantly spotting her phone resting on the countertop, her father standing directly behind it.

“Elizabeth, darling, I’m very disappointed in this visit. Your father and I sent you to school so that you could grow up and become the young woman we know you can be. And instead you seem to have lost all semblance of manners.” Her mother placed both hands on the countertop and Betty focused on her perfectly manicured cuticles. Yet another detail that had been meticulously cared for.

“I’m sorry Mom.” Betty apologized for what felt like the millionth time, her voice sounding far away even to her own ears, “It was an error of judgement, one that will not happen again. I assure you I’ve learned my lesson.”

Her mother pursued her lips, her eyes flickering to her father, who nodded almost imperceptibly in response. Betty watched in anticipation as her mother took a deep breath and pushed the phone across the counter, “If it were up to me, you’d have to wait until you were leaving tomorrow to get this back, but your father and I discussed it and we think it’s best you have time to properly prepare for your return to school tomorrow.”

Betty simply nodded in response, tallying a mental brownie point in her dad’s favor for the obvious fight he’d won her.

“Now, the two of us are headed to bed. We’ll see you in the morning.” Her mother began to move past her, pausing to place a firm hand on her shoulder, “We can only hope you’ve learned your lesson Elizabeth.”

A cautionary squeeze was all it took and then her mother was gone, Betty taking a moment to mouth a silent “thank you” to her father as he followed behind.

It took every fiber of restraint Betty had left not to sprint up the stairs as she clutched her phone in her palm. She counted to ten and then pushed toward her room as calmly as she could, gently shutting her door behind her before flopping back down on her bed and turning the device on.

Her toes tapped against her comforter as she waited for the start up to complete, her heart tightening in the moment of stillness that occurred when her home screen came into view.

It took three agonizing seconds for her notifications to start loading. It took another ten seconds for her phone to cease its buzzing, leaving Betty staring down at her message icon.

Sixteen missed texts.

The first four were from Veronica, pictures from her family’s vacation estate. The next two came from her editor, detailing his response to her recent article inquiries. There was one from Kevin wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving, and another from Cheryl showing off her elaborate Thanksgiving feast. Three more came from Archie, obviously looking to check in after leaving her house.

The last five were from Jughead.

_Hope the witch didn’t bring out her broomstick after we left_

_Sorry, that was a bad joke_

_Seriously are you okay?_

_You there?_

_I sincerely hoping you aren’t ignoring me on purpose, but just in case I’m going to stop texting. If you are ignoring me, congratulations! If not, text me_

Betty’s fingers hovered over her keyboard, trying to think of the best way to respond before deciding to hit the call button instead.

She lay her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes when it started ringing, silently willing him to pick up.

“Betty?”

She breathed a sigh of relief, “Hi.”

“Hi?” Jughead’s voice washed over her, his response more a question than a greeting.

“Hi,” she whispered again, unable to formulate a new response.

There was a beat of silence across the line. “Betty? Is everything okay? I haven’t heard from you since -”

“I know,” she interrupted, “I’m sorry. My mom confiscated my phone.”

“Oh.”

Another beat passed.

She sat up on her bed, crossing over to her window and pulling back her curtains to see the light across the way was on, “Are you in Archie’s room?”

“Yeah,” Jughead responded, “I’m working on an essay for my literature class.”

“Is Archie with you?”

“No, he and his dad are downstairs watching a movie – something with a lot of gun shots involved.”

“Come to the window.”

Jughead didn’t respond, but Betty could hear rustling on the other end of the line as a shadow came into view. She watched as he cautiously pulled the curtain back, his curiosity transforming into a smile when his eyes met hers. “Hi,” he said, Betty’s eyes latching onto the way his mouth moved with the word.

“Hi.” Betty smiled back.

“I think we’re starting to wear out that word.” Jughead smirked. Betty laughed in response, her chest rising and falling freely. For a moment, it was almost perfect, the two of them captured in picturesque windowsill images. But then Jughead’s smile turned downward, his shoulders straightening just a bit as his tone turned serious, “Are you okay?”

Betty didn’t respond for a moment, just looking at his image across from her and doing her best to piece together a proper answer to such a loaded question. “I’m working on it.” She answered honestly, sending a small smile in his direction, “My mom has been… well, you met her. Guess there’s no hiding that anymore.”

Her eyes drifted downward to her fingers, still gripping the edge of her curtain. She watched as her thumb rubbed along the seam of the fabric, unsure of whether she could meet Jughead’s gaze. “It’s all a bit messy, I suppose.”

“I like messy.” Jughead’s voice rang out across the line, soft but solid, sending shivers down her spine. When Betty looked back up his eyes instantly found hers, and she could see there was no hesitation in them. Her stomach did a few somersaults while her brain tried to figure out the next move.

“Come over.”

The words came without pretense, tumbling from her lips before her mind had a chance to scoop them up and hide them back in some corner of unspoken desires. She couldn’t pinpoint what crazed part of her had said it, but when it reached her ears her whole being knew she wanted it.

Jughead just looked at her for a moment, and Betty worried he was trying to figure out just how insane she must be. He surprised her, however, when he didn’t ask her to repeat herself, didn’t argue or question, only responding with a single word, “How?”

And just like that, Betty felt herself spring into action. “There’s a ladder on the back of the house. Polly used to sneak boys up that way all the time in high school. You can leave through the Andrew’s kitchen and cut through their backyard. Just - you have to be quiet, okay?”

Without another word, Jughead hung up the phone, nodding in her direction before disappearing from view and leaving Betty alone in the window. The moment he was gone, the responsible, logical side of her brain seemed to reappear in full force. What was she doing? This couldn’t possibly be a good idea. She should just text Jughead, tell him to forget it, that it was all a stupid impulse. If she stopped him before he left the house, it would be like nothing had ever happened.

She picked up her phone, swiping over to her messages and typing and deleting and retyping her command to abort mission. While her thumb hovered over the send button, Betty could practically see the little angel and devil on either side of her shoulder duking it out. Of course, they weren’t arguing good versus evil. These creatures felt closer to representations of head and heart, or, more realistically, fear and confidence.

Ultimately, her internal debate was settled by a sudden clanging outside her window, causing Betty to drop her phone and rush over to her window once more. She made quick work of the latches and pushed the glass upward, looking down to find Jughead already halfway up the ladder.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “Turns out it’s pretty difficult to move a ladder in total silence.”

He climbed clumsily into her room when he reached the top, Betty grabbing his elbow to help stabilize him. It was all awkward movements and hushed shuffling for a few moments while the two of them found their bearings, Betty closing the window softly and Jughead straightening out the jacket he had thrown on to offset the cool autumn air.

And then, silence.

The two of them found themselves standing face to face, in Betty’s bedroom, and it struck Betty that she had absolutely no idea what she was meant to do in greeting. In past there hadn’t really been much of anything aside from a verbal acknowledgment of each other, but those greetings had been at libraries and coffee shops and academic buildings. Definitely not in Betty’s childhood bedroom, and definitely not during what could be referred to as a nighttime rendezvous.

Her mind started spinning in a million different directions, Betty’s momentary panic leading her to turn away from Jughead and sit on her bed. She placed a hand on the space beside her, Jughead following her instruction without complaint. Her heart skipped a beat at the way her mattress dipped beneath his weight, her torso swaying inward toward him. Although, whether that was the by the shift of the mattress or by her own accord she couldn’t really tell.

“Would it be totally lame if I said “hi” again?” Jughead joked, mercifully breaking the silence.

Betty cracked a smile, rolling her eyes, “Maybe a little.”

Jughead looked around, taking in her faded floral wallpaper and postered walls, “Your room is… very pink.”

“It all kind of feels like a shadow of my life now.” Betty sighed, “Coming home has made it clear how much has changed.”

Betty startled a bit when she felt Jughead’s cool hand reach over and wrap itself around hers, silently lifting their hands together and placing them on his knee. “Change doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” He whispered, his voice resonating in the slight squeeze of his fingers twined with hers.

Betty watched their hands for a moment, his rough and calloused and large, hers smooth and manicured and small, and decided she liked the juxtaposition. She gave him a small squeeze back, relishing in the slow transfer of heat from her palm to his.

“Jug?” She asked, looking up at him with an unfamiliar softness to her own voice, “Do you think… do you think this change is a good thing?”

His eyes flickered down to her lips for the briefest of moments, his own parting in a silent inhalation. “I think,” Jughead’s brows furrowed a bit with the shift in his tone, “this change could be the best thing.”

The next thing Betty registered was Jughead’s lips on her own, the spark that had emanated from her palm travelling up to her mouth and spreading across her entire body. It wasn’t a particularly reckless kiss, Jughead’s movements slow but persistent in a display of both confidence and caution, but Betty could feel her whole body begin to buzz.

She untangled her hand from his, wrapping her fingers firmly around his neck and using the pressure to pull him closer. He gladly complied, his hands reaching for another connection point and finding two at either of her hip bones. She smiled against his lips, and Jughead took the opportunity to run his tongue along her bottom lip.

Pulling away gently, Betty’s fingers trailed from his neck to his jawline, her index finger toying with its sharp edge. “I missed you.”

Jughead chuckled, his breath tickling her skin, “It’s only been two days.”

“Two days in lockdown may as well be two years.” Betty sighed, her eyes meeting his. “Besides, we didn’t really get a chance to talk about… you know.” Suddenly snapping out of her reverie, Betty pulled away from Jughead, standing and pacing the room as she talked, “I mean – this is all a little crazy, isn’t it? I have a breakdown in my kitchen pantry and then we kiss. Is this all just some guilt thing? Are we just caught up in the heightened emotion of it all? Is this even going to mean anything to you once we get back to school?”

“Will it mean anything to you?” Jughead asked in response, both hands rested firmly on her mattress.

Betty released a frustrated sigh, “That’s not an answer to my question.”

“It’s still my question.”

Betty stopped pacing, looking at him and feeling her mind slow it’s spin, “No. Of course not. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because you were there for me. Because you’ve always been there for me.”

“And I kissed you because you kissed me, and I liked kissing you, and I would like to keep kissing you for a very long time.” Jughead said, standing up and closing the space between them, placing his hands reassuringly on either shoulder and smiling at her in a crooked sort of manner, “And I know the way your brain works. I know you’re going to pick this all apart and analyze every detail. You’ll come up with every reason why this isn’t going to work, why this is a bad idea. And that’s okay. Because I’m going to be here to dispute every single piece of concern until you can’t possibly imagine anymore.”

He pressed his lips against her forehead, Betty’s eyelids fluttering closed in response. For a moment, it almost felt like an imagination, like it was all too warm and wonderful to be nothing more than a conjuring of her mind. But when she opened her eyes again, Jughead was still standing before her, as solid and firm and real as he’d ever been.

“Where did you come from, Jughead Jones?”

“That,” Jughead smile was softer, more guarded, “is a long story meant for another night.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime.”

And then he was kissing her again, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks and making Betty feel like maybe, just maybe, he was holding her together.

They kissed a bit more, Betty reveling in the feeling of his hair between her fingers and his hands across her skin, before Jughead reluctantly pulled away and warned that Archie would notice he was missing soon.

Wistfully, Betty nodded and moved to reopen the window, offering Jughead her hand so he could climb out the way he came in. Before he began his descent down the ladder, Jughead reached back inside and gave her one final kiss.

“I’ll see you in the morning Betts.” He whispered, giving her cheek a brief but affectionate brush with his thumb.

Betty smiled, her skin unconsciously chasing his contact when he pulled away, “See ya Juggie.”

And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here - thank you! I know I really made you all wait. I hope it didn't disappoint!


End file.
